


Through Violence with Love

by scifishipper



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Fight Club (1999), Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Intrigue, Pre-Canon, Revenge, Romance, Rough Sex, Secret Identity, Terrorism, Thriller, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Fleet lets him down, Lee Adama takes matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Violence with Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninjamonkey73](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjamonkey73/gifts).



> (Inspired by the dystopic, angst-filled world of _Fight Club_ , but follows its own canon mostly related to BSG).

[](http://s784.photobucket.com/albums/yy126/scifishipper/BSG/?action=view&current=fightclubscifishipper.jpg) ****

PROLOGUE

_Aquaria Colony_  
A Few Weeks Before the Fall

Kara pulls a bottle of ambrosia from the battered old refrigerator and slams the door. Her fingers are stiff from the cold and she kicks the stove, its rarely-used mechanisms rumbling to life again. Moving slowly across the room, she flicks on the wireless and sinks into a worn overstuffed chair, shifting her position to ease the throbbing in her head. She hasn’t slept or eaten in days and she feels the crash coming. 

The wireless blares to life and her eyes fix on the image of a black coffin emerging from a small temple, its white marble front starkly contrasted against the russet foliage of the Caprica City suburb. Her eyes go automatically to the man in Fleet dress grays following behind the casket, Commander William Adama. His face is grim, set tight with grief, but his chin notches higher as he sees the cameras. The commentators’ voices pretend at neutrality, but she hears the judgment nonetheless. Or maybe it’s just her own voice in her head.

“The President’s office has issued a statement indicating that the military will conduct a full investigation into the bombing at the Colonial Fleet’s Triton Falls Prison. The detention center, several hours north of Queensland, Picon, was destroyed four days ago in a terrorist attack that left one guard dead and several others injured. One of the suspected terrorists, Zachary Adama, son of the war hero Commander William ‘Husker’ Adama, was also killed.” 

Zak’s father looks older than she expects, his hair edged with gray at the temples, wide wrinkles fanning out from his eyes and deep grooves around his mouth. She chases down a surge of nausea with some ambrosia and listens.

“According to the Fleet spokesperson, Gillian Waltrop, no one has come forward to claim responsibility for the attack. Sources close to the Adar administration indicate that they are following two promising leads, including the possibility that the group responsible for the recent attacks on the Channel Seven wireless service might be involved.”

Another commentator, Harlan Essen, interrupts. “It’s unclear why that group would suddenly resort to violence, Jim. Their previous acts have been little more than frightening pranks. There’s also a report that the bombing is linked to the prison scandals last year…”

The commentator continues his toneless reporting and Kara feels her insides start to twist. Another sob burbles up into her throat, and she hits the mute button. The room is suddenly silent, the humming of the stove the only sound as she stares at the screen watching the pallbearers load the casket into the waiting hearse. Her eyes scan the crowd as the camera pans wide, searching every face for just a glimpse of him. She knows, of course, that he can’t be there. He’s disappeared, too, grieving for his brother, driven into hiding by a plan gone horribly wrong.

Kara slumps down deeper into the chair and watches the long black car drive away, a short line of vehicles following it as the press and the curious look on. Angrily she kicks off the power and the screen goes blank. In the silent chill of the room, another wave of grief and longing tightens in her chest. She needs to see him. Knows it’s not possible. Not yet.

Kara’s hiding, too, isolated in a cabin in the desolate lava fields of Aquaria, until she can finally go to him.

She prays that he’ll be there.

****

~*~

PART ONE

_Caprica City_  
Two months earlier

Improvised lights hang from the low beams of the ceiling, casting a wavering light against the faces of a small crowd gathered to watch two men fighting in the center of the room. Lee’s attention is elsewhere, focused on the bright screen of a computer, the popping and slapping sounds of the fight fading into a familiar white noise. 

With practiced eyes, Lee scans the news reports and checks his filters – no news about the cylons, no mention of anything that would show him the government or the Fleet is owning their deception. Instead they blame him, the unknown terrorist, once thought a prankster, whose message about the cylons returning has spooked the Twelve Worlds. The government fights doggedly against his message, citing him as a paranoid lunatic. They continue to push their message of peace and prosperity and Lee feels the fight surging up inside him again. He stares at the faces of the propaganda, happy children, women with babies, and he feels sick, a familiar bile rising in his throat and he swallows it down. It’s all a lie.

Gritting his teeth, he scrubs a hand over his face, facial scabs rough under his palm, and he flicks the computer off, just refraining from putting his fist through the screen. Kicking the chair aside, he takes slow steps towards the crowd, body taut with simmering rage. The space is wide, but the low ceiling makes it feel claustrophobic and tight as the loud grunting of exertion emerge from the center of the shifting crowd. Most are cheering, each person shouting for their own reasons, while some stay silent, moving their fists, practicing on the side in preparation for their next fight. He moves through and sees the fighters just as the short fat one barrels towards a lanky guy named Jerome. They both go toppling over, faces bloody and skin glistening with sweat. 

Energy is buzzing inside him as he watches, shifting from foot to foot, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth. The short guy is on his knees, but refusing to tap out. He knows how it feels, wanting to be hit until you don’t feel anything. Jerome wails on him, loud cracking punches to the man’s face and his head snaps back and forth like a speedbag. When he finally goes limp, the fight’s over. The men are pulled to the side and Lee steps into the middle of the crowd.

Determined, he strips off his t-shirt, tossing it into the corner and pulling off his shoes. He hadn’t planned to fight tonight, thought he could go three days, but he can’t. Every day is a reminder of what he saw, how he’d been duped and there can never be enough violence to make up for it. Then he starts to speak, his voice gritty and raw. The men and women hush, eyes rapt on the muscled form of their leader.

“I look around this room and I see a generation of bright men and women whose lives are a lie. I see them trusting a government that cannot be trusted. I see them losing their way, living in a false sense of peace while the enemy is at our doorstep.”

He glances around the room, feels his own panic rising. “We are the middle children of history. We have no purpose or place. We have no great war.” He pauses, expression darkening. “Or so we have been told. We have been raised to believe that the cylon threat is over and that we will all grow old and happy with our families.”

“But we won’t. You are slowly learning that fact.” He feels the trembling beginning inside him, the roiling outrage that pumps bile into his gut and acid into his veins. “We are not safe.” There is a shifting momentum in the crowd, men and women moving closer to him, his energy feeding theirs.

He spins around, his fists clenching and unclenching as he speaks. “The war is not over. The cylons are here and they are taking our people.” Images swim in his mind, dim lights, a long room, the whirring of machines, and he shivers and closes his eyes, turning purposefully and extending an arm in front of him. 

“Who needs to prepare?” He stops and walks towards the perimeter of the circle, stopping only when his pointed finger hits flesh. His eyes pop open and he finds his opponent. “You,” he booms and steps back.

His opponent is new, a pale thin man with reddish hair and pockmarked skin. “What’s your name?” 

“Brendan,” he says, his voice shaking a little. 

“Strip,” he barks and starts to dance on the balls of his feet, his face twisted into a tight knot of intent. A brief feeling of remorse flashes across his mind because he knows what’s coming. 

A few of the regulars clap Brendan on the back, cheering him on as he stretches out his arms and starts to hop in anticipation of the fight. 

He lets Brendan take the first couple of shots, feels the pain spreading across his cheek and jaw. He grins, exhilarated and sees Brendan gulp air. Pulling back slightly, he jabs, his fist connecting soundly with the center of Brendan’s nose, not hard enough to break, but the man winces and his eyes go unfocused. 

Brendan shakes it off, though, targeting Lee with his eyes and the two men circle around. Familiar anger catches in his throat and he stretches out his neck, breathing evenly. 

Brendan hits him a few more times and then Lee’s done playing. He slams his fist into Brendan’s face and the man reels back, hitting the ground with a thud. Dropping down on him, Lee hits him again. Blood splatters onto Brendan’s cheek and neck and one of his eyes has already started to swell and close. Lee’s surprised when he doesn’t tap out, so he keeps swinging, hitting him in the ribs to expel some of the blistering energy coursing through his veins. Lee hasn’t killed anyone yet and he doesn’t want to. He just needs to fight. 

Instead of diminishing, his rage strengthens, unwanted mental images coming along with it and he starts hitting wildly, fists pummeling Brendan’s face. When the man finally taps out, his face is a malformed bloody mess. Breathless, Lee tips back on his heels, his head spinning as he tries to stand. Several sets of hands pull him upright, but he can’t breathe. He needs to get the hell out of there. 

He slams out the door, cold air rushing at him and he fills his lungs. This fight has left him physically tired but mentally on edge, nerves vibrating inside him; he can’t stand still.

Minutes later, his pacing is interrupted when he hears the door open behind him and a high female voice. “Nice fight…” He turns at the snick of a lighter, sees a bright flame and a cigarette being lit. 

He doesn’t speak, just shrugs and moves towards her, plucking the cigarette out of her fingers and taking a long drag. The smoke fills his lungs and he blows it back out again, a white cloud hovering between them before the wind disperses it. Her delicate features are heavily made up and the thick mane of black hair frames her face like a gauche porcelain doll. 

She takes the cigarette back, pulls in a few puffs and stubs it out on the wall behind her, carefully slipping it back into her pack before she turns and throws an inviting look over her shoulder. Lee follows around to the side of the building and presses her against it, roughly shoving his hand under her skirt. Her laughter is high and grating, as she spreads her legs and undoes his fly. 

He fraks her half-heartedly, jamming her body against the brick wall as she wraps her legs around his waist. She screams like a demon and he’s irritated more than aroused, but he comes anyway, pulsing inside her and stepping back to let her legs fall onto the ground. She’s got a half-smile on her face and pulls the stubby cigarette back out of the pack and lights it. She taps out another and extends it to him.

He shakes his head, zips and walks away.

~*~

_Triton Falls Military Prison For Women_  
Picon, One Year Before the Fall

_Captain Lee Adama slides out from under the desk and looks at the long row of surveillance screens above him. “That should do it,” he mutters to himself, shrugging off his jacket before he settles back into the rolling desk chair._

_“Halberstam, check five and seven. There’s a flicker I can’t seem to fix.” Lee adjusts a few camera settings by typing codes into a computer program and two of the cameras change from static images to a live feed of prisoners filing into the cafeteria for lunch. “One and two are fine.” He makes a few more adjustments. “All of them are fine except those two. Check the power supplies because I’m getting nothing.”_

_Lee scans the screens and sits back in the chair to watch as Halberstam edges behind the far wall to check the power conduits. The images are grainy, black and white stuttering surveillance of all of the main areas in the prison. These are duplicates, feeding off of the existing prison surveillance system as a way of providing checks to the prison’s own recorded data. The other bank of cameras, those in the room next to this one, are the ones Lee is most concerned about._

_Ten large screens line the wall of the smaller room, each split into four smaller images. Fleet command has set up this secondary surveillance system as a way of monitoring the prison staff and their “off camera” interactions with the prisoners. A recent prisoner abuse scandal along with a surprisingly wide cover-up has pushed the Fleet to monitor its own to ensure that its personnel, convicted felons or not, are treated humanely._

_Lee turns off all of the monitors but one and types into the computer. He controls the feeds for the two main buildings and a smaller medical center. The four images rotate and he pushes a key to start the recording device._

_A few seconds later, he hits stop and replays the footage and repeats the process three more times. “Recording on cameras one through four is operational.” He checks each monitor in turn, announcing the success to Halberstam before moving to the next._

_His stomach rumbles as he flicks on number nine, containing four of the twelve feeds from the medical center. The images are extra grainy and dark, and he’s barely able to make out small figures walking in and out of the waiting room and the two long corridors that run through the middle of the facility. His face wrinkles and he taps a few keys. Instead of clearing, the images grow darker and less detailed._

_“Specialist, come and take a look at this. Think we have a bad camera?”_

_Halberstam moves in from the other room and peers over Lee’s shoulder. “If it were one camera, I’d say yes, but these cameras are in a couple different locations. Did you try the other channels?” Halberstam snakes a hand past Lee and types the same command. The images flick back to the original, somewhat clearer footage. “I’d isolate the four feeds and work on them one at a time. Maybe those cameras are all from the same batch or we have a video-out hub that’s not working.”_

_“All right. We’ll do it after lunch.” Lee flicks off the screen and stands, pulling his jacket off the chair and buttoning it._

_Halberstam follows Lee out the door and down the steps to their van and they start to drive._

_“How much longer do you think we’ll be on this assignment, sir?” the specialist asks as he turns off the service road to go towards the civilian community of Triton Falls._

_“As long as it takes to make sure the secondary system is functioning. We’re almost there. Maybe a few days more.” Lee stares out the window as they pass wide fields of trees and high grass._

_They drive in silence for a few minutes before Halberstam starts to talk again. Lee groans inwardly. The guy is good at his job, but he talks too much. “Where are you stationed after this, Sir?”_

_Lee glances at him. “I’m at Fleet Law on Libran. Going back for the second term.”_

_“I’d heard you were a pilot, sir,” the younger man says, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as they wait at a red light._

_“I used to be a pilot. Decided that law was more interesting.” His tone is flat and he waits for the expected response._

_“Really?” Halberstam’s surprise does not fail to deliver and the unspoken question fills the cab: how could he give up flying vipers for boring law school?_

_Lee just shrugs, giving his usual response. “Some things are more important than flying.”_

~*~

_Delphi, Caprica_

Kara Thrace’s loud voice echoes through the densely packed room, men and women listening intently, their faces glistening with sweat in the poorly-ventilated space. 

“Listen up, you frakkers. There are more people here than last week and that means you dipshits are talking. Shut the hell up, you got it?” Kara presses her face close to a thin-faced man with a black eye. “That means you, frakhead.” She flicks him in the forehead with her fingers and steps back into the center of the crowd of now chuckling fighters. 

Her face is intense, hazel eyes appearing green in the low light of the abandoned factory. The lights in the back flicker angrily as she makes her opening speech. “First rule of fight club: you do not talk about fight club.” She makes eye contact with every single person in the room as she recounts the rules. Most of them know her, have had their asses kicked by her, or were personally involved in making some new bruise on her body. There are a few new faces, the short stocky woman with a piercings and a tribal tattoo running down her nose. She’ll be fighting tonight.

Kara grins wide and slaps her hand on the thick shoulder of Marcus Tripp, her second when she’s too hungover or too beat up to give the rules. He hands her a bottle and she slugs a few drinks back, feeling the surge of energy around the room as people take off their shirts and shoes and jewelry. 

The first fight is called and she watches the crowd, scanning the faces, breathing in the sweat and the raw energy shimmering through the room. A crack of bone is common and she turns only slightly when the new fighter hits the floor. The onlookers cheer them on, supporting the new blood, encouraging and shouting for action and intensity. First fights are short, this one ending with a brutal hit to the face and blood spraying from a first broken nose. The fighter rouses himself, grinning with blood-covered teeth. She knows that feeling – almost pure sensation and a triumphant tingle in every part of your body. 

You’ve survived your first fight.

~*~

_Golenstock Detention Center_  
Caprica, One Year Before the Fall

_“Hey, Lieutenant. You’re early,” the middle-aged guard says as Kara saunters into the guard’s station with a grin. It’s a small one room building adjoining the airfield with the rest of the prison and smells vaguely of old shoes._

_“I brought you something,” she answers, her eyes glinting. She tosses a box of cigars onto the cluttered desk and sits down across from the dark-haired guard._

_His mouth opens in surprise and he leans forward and takes the box, his eyes crinkling warmly. “Troyas! I haven’t had one of these in years. My dad used to smoke these.” With a pleased grin, he pops the seal and opens the carton, a pungent smell of tobacco wafting into the air. “What’s the occasion?” He pulls out two cigars and extends one to Kara. “You having a baby?”_

_Kara snorts loudly and rolls her eyes. “Yeah right. No. Today’s my last donut run, Val. The last frakking one.” She bites off the end of the cigar and spits it into the garbage. “Got word from Major Kirkman – punishment duty is over.” She grins wide and pulls a lighter out of her pocket, taking a few puffs of the cigar until it’s lit. Tossing the lighter to Val, she settles back in a metal chair and props her feet up on the edge of the desk-high file cabinet._

_The lighter snicks again and Val lights his stogie, the thick smoke obscuring his bearded face until he waves it away. “Shame I won’t get to see you anymore. It’s been a welcome change.” He waves the cigar in the air, gesturing to the room. “Everything’s been so godsdamned tense these last few months.”_

_He’s got kind eyes and Kara winks at him. “Never know, Val, I might end up back here. Never could keep myself out of trouble.”_

_Nodding his head in agreement, he smiles and they smoke for a while, sweetly acrid smoke filling the small room before Val walks over to open a window. “Should take another half an hour to load the prisoners and then you’ll be off to Picon.”_

_“How many more women are there?” Kara asks, turning to look out the window at her C-280 Jammer, a crew transport that she’s been flying for the last two months, shuttling prisoners from Golenstock on Caprica to Triton Falls on Picon._

_“About sixty more, if I remember correctly. They’re moving them in slowly, taking the less violent offenders before the maximum security ones. Adele Li went first. She’s the one…you know.” Val stares at the tip of his cigar._

_Kara sighs and turns her attention back to a Fleet poster hanging on the opposite wall. Propaganda of happy soldiers and their families and she grimaces. “Frakked up situation, Val.”_

_With a frown, Kara remembers the news reports as they flooded across the Twelve Worlds. A prostitution ring using women imprisoned in the military’s detention centers on three Colonies. A female prisoner, Adele Li had contacted her brother, a reporter from the Picon Star Tribune, and a Fleet-wide cover-up had been revealed._

_“Good that they’re moving the women. Disgusting what they did…and the cover-up. Those women were already being punished.” Kara tries not to think about how the Fleet,_ her fleet _, could have let its prisons hurt so many people._

_With a shake of her head, she pushes the thoughts away and appraises Val. “Maybe you should try to get a transfer to Picon. Facilities are better, right? Something new to stir things up.”_

_He smiles. “Nah. I’ve had plenty of things stirred up here and I’ve got somebody special anyway. Not interested in leaving right now.” His faces reddens a little and Kara’s raises an eyebrow. “Oh, shut up,” he laughs and she doesn’t press it. “Anyway, I’ve heard that the weather in Triton Falls is damn cold and I’m not interested in freezing my ass off.”_

_Kara takes another puff of the cigar and flicks the ashes into a mug. “Yeah, that’d suck.” Kara yawns and slides deeper into her chair, letting the smoke and the conversation create a calm space in her head. Truth be told, she’ll miss Val and their conversations about mostly ordinary things._

_After another twenty minutes of chatting, she stands and stubs out the cigar in the mug. “Thanks for the smoke, Val. You take care of yourself, all right?” She leans back on her heels and puts her hands on her hips. “I’ll see you ‘round.”_

_Val stands and moves towards her with his hand extended. “You stay out of trouble, Lieutenant, okay? I don’t want to see your sorry ass here again.” He smiles roughly and they shake hands. Kara turns away, happy and sad at the same time and pushes the door open to head to her ship. She’s got a viper back home with her name on it and she’s ready to get this show on the road._

~*~

_Delphi_

Kara writhes seductively to the driving rhythm, drums and guitar and deafening noise rattling through her body. She’s breathing hard, already tight clothing clinging to her body as a moist sheen covers her skin. With half-closed eyes she moves to the music, edging ever closer to losing herself in the pulsing beat. Behind her, she feels the hardness of a muscled chest, their movements in sync as the music in the crowded club pounds around them. His hands cling to her waist as she tilts her hips against him. When his hands move higher, she shifts, dancing slightly away, leaving their bodies just skimming together. Someone else, taller, moves his body against her front and the three of them dance together, creating a wave of undulating motion in the crowd. All thought drifts away and it’s just sensation and breathing and she can’t tell if the pounding in her chest is from her heart or the music. 

The rhythm shifts again and the bodies move, sliding down and across until she’s pressed against a softer form, a woman or a man, she doesn’t know, doesn’t care, just dances until her throat is parched and sweat trails down her face and neck and between her breasts. 

She pushes through the throng on the dance floor, slightly dizzy from the intense crush of bodies and the music seems oddly disjointed from her mind. When she finally makes it to the bar she sees him, a sharply angled jaw, dark hair, intense blue eyes staring at her almost without blinking. The corner of her mouth curves up as their eyes linger and then she looks away to order her drink. When she looks back he is gone and she frowns. With a shake of her head, she tosses five cubits on the bar and takes the drink, sipping first and then downing it in two gulps. She wipes the sweat of her face onto her forearm and orders another drink – stronger now because she’s too damn sober. 

The music pulses around her as she drinks, the caustic liquor sending a fiery burn down her throat. She gasps and grins to no one in particular. She’s getting high and she frakking loves it. The tingle of the alcohol slides up her legs and arms and swirls around in her chest as she moves back to the dance floor. She shifts into the fray from the side, hips moving and arms swaying above her head. Her eyes are open as she surveys the bar, bottles backlit by pale red lights that cast the patrons in an ominous glow. She scans to the left and he’s there again, leaning against the wall surrounding the pit of the dance floor and she drags her eyes down over the muscled arms and wide chest and back to the intensity of his gaze. He’s admiring her openly and she feels a rush. Through half-lidded eyes she stares at him, her senses tingling in awareness despite the drugging feeling of the whiskey. He stands still, not dancing, not moving at all, cockiness in his expression more of a turn-on than the stranger dancing up against her ass. 

Kara closes her eyes for a long moment, losing herself in a seductive riff, imagining that he’s watching, but when she opens them he is gone again. It’s enough to irritate her and she moves off the dance floor. Cat and mouse is not her game and if he wants her, he’d better make his move. 

She goes back to the bar and orders one more for the road. She tosses it back and spins around to leave the bar, shoving through the door, the pounding beat muting as the door slams behind her. Stumbling a little on the cobblestone street, she lifts her head and breathes deeply. The air is cool and moist from the rain and smells vaguely of garbage from a dumpster nearby. Her head clears a bit and she shivers as a breeze rapidly cools the layer of sweat on her skin. 

Digging into her pocket, she finds the key to her truck and takes two steps towards it. Music bursts out onto the street as the club door flies open behind her. She glances back, sees the intense stranger step into the alley and a satisfied smile creeps across her face. Slowing her steps, she senses him move behind her and a tingle of excitement runs up her back. She’s gonna fight or frak and she doesn’t care which. It’s been a week since she last fought and the dancing didn’t do shit to burn off the energy that’s coiled inside her.

She reaches the other side of the alley and rounds on him, hands balled into fists and a half sneer on her face. “You want something?” Her voice is a dare and the stranger stops, his head snapping up to meet her eyes. In the light of the street, she can see him more clearly, high cheekbones and those glittering blue eyes staring right back at her. His right brow is slashed with a fresh cut and there’s a faded black circle under his left eye. She smirks and lets her eyes travel down his sculpted arms to his knuckles which are raw and red with dark bruises and fresh cuts where his fists came into contact with someone’s teeth. 

“You fight,” she says. It’s not a question, just a fact, and he blinks in surprise. She cocks her head at him and he raises the corner of his mouth in answer.

Kara pushes her hair off her face and takes a step towards him. His eyes drop to her breasts, admiring the flesh of her cleavage in the deeply cut neckline of her shirt. She shifts under his gaze, stepping closer still and puts one bold hand on his chest.

His arm snakes around her waist and pulls her against his hips, their eyes locked together. She feels heat pooling between her legs and she swallows just before he crushes his mouth to hers. His lips are firm and she opens to him, flicking out her tongue, tasting cigars and whiskey as she explores. Her hand slides around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth more urgently onto hers and he answers by cupping her ass and yanking her tightly against his crotch. Desire flares inside her and she bites his lip, eliciting a growl and the sharp tang of blood. He jolts back, eyes flashing at her. 

“What’s the matter, blue eyes, you don’t like it a little rough?” her eyes are heavily lidded as she challenges him and he wraps some of her hair around his fingers and pulls, keeping her mouth just hovering over his. She smiles a little at the tease and flicks her tongue out to lash against his lip. He crushes her mouth roughly against his once more and their kiss rages on until neither can breathe. When they come gasping apart, she inhales sharply, laughing a little at the intensity. “That’s more like it.” 

“My truck’s over there,” she says and thumbs towards the other end of the alley. Kara steps out of his arms to pull him towards the alcove where her truck is tucked between two buildings. She barely has the key in the lock of the passenger door when he presses up behind her, his hands drawing up the hem of her skirt and skimming along her thighs. Arousal rolls through her and she leaves the key jammed in the lock and reaches behind her to grab his erection through his jeans. She gasps when he moves her panties and sinks a finger inside, his mouth finding the soft skin of her neck. He moves slowly, matching his movements to her breathing, until she’s pushing onto his hand, wanting more. She tries to unbutton his pants, but the position is awkward and she groans loud. He chuckles in her ear and she feels him unsnapping and unzipping. Her body is aching to feel him inside her. 

Kara holds onto the side mirror as he hikes up her skirt. His erection is hot against her ass and she feels him shift into position, tucking his thighs along hers as he pushes in a little. Her breath catches and she grips his hip with her free hand, twisting her head around to try to capture him in another kiss. He bites along her neck and slides inside her all at once and she feels like she’s about to come already from the sensation of him filling her. It’s motherfrakking perfect and she just holds on, fingers gripping his ass or thigh or whatever she can get a handhold on as his hips slam into hers. 

His breath is heavy in her ear, every thrust making her moan and shudder. His teeth nip at her neck and ear and his fingers dig into her thigh, giving him more access and he drives deeper. She’s flattened out on the door of the truck, the coldness of the window against the skin in the V of her shirt. One of his hands squeezes her breast, tweaking and tugging on a nipple, before sliding down to find her clit. Her forehead is on the glass and she vaguely sees the cups and discarded food wrappers lining her truck. It all blurs as her eyes roll back into her head as rippling shockwaves of pleasure course through her. 

Kara’s legs are shaking now, and her fingers are locked around the mirror she holds to stay upright. “Oh, gods, oh, gods,” she chants. Her breathing is fast and gasping, arousal dizzying and intense as she feels herself start to come. “Oh, frak.” She isn’t quiet and she doesn’t care, just wants the cresting moment to go on forever, lingering and teetering on the edge until she plunges over with a gasping shudder. Her orgasm spurs him on and he fraks her harder and faster, gripping her painfully against him as he comes with a throaty groan against her cheek. 

She swallows against a dry throat as he slides out of her. They’re still connected as he caresses her bare arms and he nuzzles the back of her neck. She shivers. “Oh, gods, that was… Frak.” She turns to face him, hands skimming up his arms as her breasts scrape across his chest. She tilts her head up and kisses him and she’s surprised by her own actions. So many nameless fraks have blended together into nothing, but this… The vibrating energy between them makes her want more. His mouth slants over hers and he threads his fingers through her hair, pressing their bodies close until their rough kisses soften and he tips his forehead against hers and they just breathe.

After a minute, they separate and she looks up at him, imagining she’s a little wild-eyed, and for once, her usual quick banter gets stuck in her throat. His expression is still intense, but different, softer, and she puts out a hand between them.

“Kara.” 

He takes her hand without breaking their gaze and slides his thumb across the soft flesh between her thumb and forefinger. He smiles for the first time. 

“I’m Matt.”  


~*~

****

PART TWO

_Delphi_  
Four Days Later

Zak turns the corner after the last building on the street and a wide field spreads out in front of him. At the edge of the now-high weeds is the deserted manufacturing facility where they fight. Most of the windows are broken out and it’s home to half a dozen vagrants and a bunch of rats. He walks closer, his jacket hunched up to his ears and he starts to hear the sounds of a fight in progress. 

He pushes through the door and a burst of stale sweat and smoke fills his nose. He tosses his jacket on a pile of coats and shivers. People are dotted all around the main room, clustered in small groups on ripped up couches and chairs. The main activity is in the next room and the shouts and cheers are punctuated by sharp pops and hits as flesh meets flesh in a fight. A trickle of nervousness runs along his spine as he crosses over to grab a beer.

Behind him, he hears her voice. “What are you doing here, Zak?” He takes a breath and turns.

“I’m here to fight again, Kara. It’s open to everyone.” He doesn’t look her in the eye and glances around the room as she approaches.

Her face is tight in irritation. “I don’t want you here. You need to stop hanging around and get a frakking life, okay?” She’s as mean as ever and he swallows.

“I’m not here for you, Kara.” He knows it’s a lie, but he says it anyway. It’s been two weeks since she dumped him and he can’t get her out of his mind.

He can tell she’s glaring at him, but he does his best to pretend she’s not there. When she finally moves away, he breathes and glances at her out of the corner of his eye. He feels the familiar pull of arousal as he watches her chatting and laughing with everyone else. He wishes things could be different, that he was more of what she wanted. 

With a shake of his head, he pushes those thoughts away and takes a long pull on the bottle. He needs liquid courage tonight and when he’s done with that one, he grabs another and walks towards the fight.

Pushing through the crowd, he can finally see them. It’s two women, one he knows and another, a blond and first timer from the way she’s getting kicked around. Blood runs down the blond’s shirt and he thinks she’s not going to last. Across the room, he catches Kara’s eyes and she winks at him, her earlier anger absent in the heat of the fight’s excitement. Zak swallows down another drink, wishing that even after all this time, he had the stomach for the blood. 

The first timer finally taps out and is pulled shakily to her feet, gaze unfocused as they take her off the floor. He tracks her with his eyes, wanting to follow, but then Kara crosses his vision. His heart pounds faster and he remembers why he’s here. 

Zak gives a high five to the winner and steps into the ring, glancing over to where Kara is talking animatedly to a small crowd. Most of the eyes around the room swing to him and he points to David, a heavily-muscled but not overly-bright regular. 

“You. Let’s fight.” 

He knows the rules and starts to take off his shirt and shoes, glancing again at Kara who now has his attention. She gives him an appraising stare and then shrugs. He bristles. _She thinks I can’t take him._

The fight starts evenly enough, but after ten minutes, Zak’s eyes is swollen closed and the very real idea that he’s going to lose starts to set in. 

David is impossibly strong, and despite being a few inches shorter, is brutal in his punches. Zak’s good at deflecting, but his arms are bruised and going numb from the blows he’s avoided. He backs off slightly to catch his breath and spits out a mouth full of blood. David’s nose is bleeding, but he’s in a hell of a lot better shape than Zak. _Frak._

Five minutes later, Zak is on the ground, cursing himself and begging to the gods that he can get up and win. Part of him knows it’s hopeless, but he tries, really tries to sit up. His efforts are too late and David hits him with a hard fist to the side of his head, sending him back onto the cement floor. When the faces above him start to spin, he knows he’s done.

~*~

“Zak? Zak?” It’s Kara’s voice through the fog in his head and he struggles to open his eyes.

“Yeah…” His face feels like hamburger and he’s sure there’s a broken tooth floating around in his mouth.

His eyes flutter open and he sees her, hovering over him with a concerned expression. “Kara? Frak.” As his awareness returns, so does the pain in his face and body. He feels ice being pressed to his cheek and he groans and tries to move it.

“No, Zak. I think your cheekbone is broken.” She shifts the ice back into place and he jerks as pain shoots into his eye socket. 

He breathes slowly in and out, calming himself enough that he doesn’t feel like puking. “He was too strong,” he says uselessly. When he’s able to look around he can see they’re in one of the back rooms, the one with the noisy fan and the desk. 

“What’s wrong with you, Zak?” Kara doesn’t sound that mad and he looks up at her. 

“I wanted to fight him. Show you—.” 

She cuts him off. “Gods, Zak. You’re an idiot.” She blows out a breath and moves away from him. He tries to turn his head to follow her, but pain shoots along his cheek again and he groans.

“Keep the ice on, would ya?” Her tone is more irritated now and he swallows.

Suddenly, Kara’s back in his vision. “Zak, look. You’re a nice guy, you really are, but it’s not going to happen for us, okay?” She swabs his other cheek and mouth with a rag. 

“Kara…” he wants to say more, but his thoughts are jumbled in his head.

“No.” She lets out a hard breath. “Get it through your head. It’s not going to happen.” She pulls away and stands. 

Zak looks up at her and sees her pause as if to say more, but then she shakes her head and points to the redhead standing next to her. “I’ve gotta go. Sherlyn is going to make sure you get home, all right?” 

He opens his mouth to speak, but clamps it shut when her face hardens. 

“See you around, Zak.”

~*~

_Triton Falls Prison, Picon_

_Lee drives the van back to the surveillance house and parks outside. As he slides out of the seat, he peers down the small wooded hill at the three main buildings of the prison. His eyes linger on his target, a smaller medical building, the two story brick structure built on the south side of the two main buildings, providing easy access for both staff and prisoners._

_With a grimace on his face, Lee unlocks the small house and steps through the ordinary looking living room and to the converted bedrooms that house the surveillance equipment. He turns on the problem cameras and cycles through a few commands to try to clear the feeds. The medical center’s grainy images continue to flicker in a pattern he’s never seen before. Powering up the other five monitors, each showing a different part of the actual prison buildings, reveals clear images with no static or flickering._

_Lee is deep in thought, tapping a pen against his lips when his cell phone rings. He looks at the display: it’s his mother. With an internal groan, he answers. “Captain Adama.”_

_“Lee, how are you, dear? I haven’t heard from you. Are you still at the law school? I expected to see you for your break.” Her words come out in an anxious rush and Lee waits patiently to speak._

_“I’m good, mom. I’ve been busy.” He leans forward and adjusts the focus on the Warden’s office camera._

_“Isn’t your first term over? I expected you back home to visit.”_

_He cringes a bit, but answers dutifully, “I took a special assignment on Picon. A favor for my old Commanding Officer. Sorry, mom.”_

_“Oh, I see.” Her voice is hurt and he presses his lips together. His mother moves the conversation along, her chipper tone hiding her real feelings._

_“I called you about Zak, Lee. He needs you. I heard from a friend of his that he’s not doing well in flight school. I think it would help if you called him, Lee. You’re his brother.”_

_The muscle in Lee’s jaw ticks as he tries to calm the rush of emotions that always come up about Zak. Their rough relationship grew even worse when Lee dropped out of flying. “Mom, I don’t think that is a good idea. Why doesn’t dad talk to him?” The last thing Zak needs is his “hotshot pilot brother” rubbing it in._

_“He looks up to you, Lee. Wants to be like you.”_

_“Well, mom, there’s nothing I can do.” Lee loses his temper and snaps at her. “I can’t help it if he’s not doing well in flight school. It’s not my fault.”_

_“Oh, Lee, of course not. I just thought…” And more guilt on top of the other._

_“Mom, I have to go. I’m at work.” His tone is impatient._

_His mother sighs and he hears the phone rustling in her hand. “Have you talked to your father, Lee? I know he misses you.”_

_Lee snorts._ Not likely _, he thinks. “Mom, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Love you.”_

_“Okay, dear. You be safe, okay? And call me soon? Love you, too!” Her voice rises sharply at the end and Lee feels hollow. His mother, ever the one who tries to pretend that everything is fine, never deals with the truth, just plows forward like her cheerfulness is going to solve everything._

_“All right, Mom. Bye.” He yanks the phone away from his ear and pressed END. Exhaling loudly, he shifts around in his chair and tries to push thoughts of his family out of his mind._

_Two hours later, he and Halberstam have checked every possible reason for the grainy footage from the medical building. The only option now is to go into the building and check the cameras himself._

~*~

_Delphi_

It’s not Kara’s usual night at Club Ares, and the crowd and music are different, less driving and sexy and she decides the DJ should be shot. It’s been a week since her encounter with Matt and she gets a shiver every time she thinks of him. True to her rule about frakking at a club, she frakked him and left, telling herself that it didn’t mean a thing. The fact that they exchanged names might be a sign of trouble, but here she is anyway, body thrumming with music and arousal. Her gut tells her he’ll be here. 

An hour later, she sees him wearing a black t-shirt and jeans that fit just right, talking to some long-legged brunette who’s got her hand on his arm. Unfamiliar jealousy rips through her and she swallows the last of a drink, leaving the glass on a small table as she walks towards the bar. She glances at him through her lashes as she approaches; he hasn’t seen her yet. 

Kara orders another drink and gives Matt her profile. She flirts with the bartender, chuckling low and sexy, just enough to show interest as she drops some cubits onto the bar. A few moments later, she can feel Matt’s eyes on her and she leans close to the man next to her and whispers in his ear. He blinks and she puts a hand on his shoulder. He’s not her type, but he’ll do well enough for the game. Kara shifts off of the stool and stands with her ass facing Matt and starts to move a little to the music, swaying her hips seductively. He might be with another woman, but she’s pretty sure it won’t last long. She knows what she wants and exactly how to get it. 

Behind her, she senses Matt approaching and her heart pounds faster. 

“Kara…” he says, breath hot in her ear. 

A flash of triumph lights her face and she shifts away from the stranger before settling her features and half-turning towards Matt. 

Quirking an eyebrow, she asks, “Where’s your date?” 

Her breath catches when she feels his hand on her thigh, sliding up. “Let’s get out of here…” he drawls. She takes a slow breath and turns casually towards him. 

“I just paid for this drink,” she says, playing at resistance. 

“I’ll buy you another…later.” His eyes are smoldering and a shiver runs along her body.

The corner of her mouth rises and she gulps down the rest of the drink, a rush of alcohol slamming into her stomach. “No sense in wasting it now is there?” 

With her fish on the hook, she moves away from him and walks towards the door. He follows and they emerge into a throng of people waiting to get into the club. She motions to her truck and they both get in, closing the doors and shutting out the street noise.

She starts the engine and feels his eyes on her face. “You fight, too,” he says. She remembers the bruise and cuts she couldn’t quite cover with makeup.

Glancing at him, Kara puts the truck into gear. “Yep,” she says, and pulls onto the street.

A few minutes later they arrive at her apartment building, one of three five-story concrete buildings abutting a power station along the eastern edge of Delphi. A flickering streetlight overhead gives an eerie cast to the building as Kara pulls back into a parking space along the street. The sounds of the generators hit them as they open the doors and step out of the truck.

Kara feels him behind her as she flips her keys in her hands and opens the building door, kicking aside some mail that’s piled in the tiny entryway. It’s been forever since she’s had anyone in her apartment and she ignores the strange flutter of anxiety. _It’s not a big deal._

They take the steps quickly and arrive breathless at her door. A rush of anticipation slides through her as she shoves the key in the lock and the door snicks open. Images of their frak against the truck flit through her mind and her singular focus becomes is getting him undressed and under her. She steps inside and Matt steps in after her, pausing while she re-locks the door. As soon as she does, his hands are on her from behind, fingers pushing under the bottom of her shirt to skim along her skin. She sinks back into him as his mouth latches on to her neck. 

She puts her hands lightly on top of his as they move to her breasts, squeezing, and she feels the fabric of her bra through their fingers. His hardness presses into her ass, and she imagines him pushing inside her. Kara turns and crushes her lips to his. Kissing him is exactly like she remembers, the same taste of whiskey and cigars from the club, and his tongue doing delicious things inside her mouth. She wants him _now_.

Kara finds button on his jeans and she slips her hand inside, fingers curling around his length. She feels the rumble of a groan against her lips and she pumps harder. His hands are on her ass and then inside her jeans as he pulls them over her hips. They’re getting tangled around her legs and she laughs and pulls away. 

“This is ridiculous.” They’re teetering on the small platform near her door, barely able to maneuver and she has a flash of the pair of them tumbling down the steps. 

Kara pulls her pants back up and goes down the steps, Matt behind her. She rounds the bottom and into the living room and strips off her pants and shirt, tossing them onto a chair. Matt does the same and steps towards her, the line of his erection visible through his shorts. Her fingers go there, skimming along the fabric and around to cup his ass. He flicks open her bra as their bodies press together, releasing her breasts to graze against his chest. 

Matt loops an arm around Kara’s waist and dips his head to pull her nipple into his mouth. She arches against him, moaning when she feels the nip of his teeth on her flesh. Arousal is coursing through her and she slips her hand into his shorts, releasing his cock to slide her hand along the smooth skin. He groans into her chest, leaving one nipple and moving his mouth to the other. Their motions are becoming more frenzied and he slides his tongue up her neck and back into her open mouth. 

Pushing her down on the sofa, Matt peels off her panties as she watches him with hooded eyes. He’s beautiful, with a finely sculpted body and the markings of a fighter. Her eyes trace the lines of his muscles, lingering on cuts and scrapes and bruises, each one a well-earned prize. When she swings her gaze back to his, she blinks at his expression. The intensity arouses her more than his fingers could ever do and she pulls him down on top of her. 

He’s not gentle, and she doesn’t want him to be. Their eyes are locked together as he shoves inside her, then pulls out and slides back in again with long strokes. Every inch of her skin is alive, tingling with sensation as he starts to move, their bodies falling into a sultry rhythm, not too fast, but luxuriously slow, inching in and out, extending the desire until she wants to scream. Her body is trembling, shifting up towards him as her mouth seeks his. 

Absently, she thinks this is not how it works. She doesn’t lay down and get frakked. She does the frakking, she takes them when she wants. _Not like this._ Panic makes her heart race faster.

With a sudden motion, she sits up, sliding out from under him and presses him against the back of the sofa with a wicked smile. She climbs on and straddles his thighs. His eyes trail her movements, face flushed with desire and his mouth wet from their kisses. As she hovers over him, his fingers latch onto her breasts, kneading before he dips his head again to take her nipple into his mouth. Kara leans forward and slides down onto him, shuddering, body taut with pleasure. She rides him like she wants to, eyes closed, losing herself the sensation of his hands and mouth and his cock filling her. Her hips move wildly, each swipe of his thumb, each hard thrust, pushing her arousal higher until and she comes with a gutted cry. Matt grips her hips, shifting under her to change the angle and pull her against his chest. She feels his thighs against her ass as they slam together, bodies matched in their power and fervor. His orgasm grates in her ear and she comes again a second after, gasping and quaking as their movements stutter to a halt. 

Some part of her wants to get up and move away, tell him it’s done and make him leave. She fights it. He feels so damn good, strong and steady, and she feels something she hasn’t felt in a long time. Like she can trust him. Just the idea of it makes her nervous and she shifts on his lap, tucking her knees up along his sides as he slides out of her. 

He tilts her head back and kisses her like last time, running his tongue along her lips slowly, and she threads her fingers into his hair. Nothing about him is what she’s used to and the kiss goes on for a while until she feels him hardening under her again. She’s feeling like things are moving out of her control and she breaks the kiss, moving off and standing up, her fingers trailing down his arm until he grasps her hand. 

“I’ll be back,” she says and he looks up at her and squeezes her fingers before she turns away.

~*~

He watches Kara walk away, seeing the red marks his hands made on her ass when he frakked her. She’s gorgeous and sexy as all hell and he doesn’t understand how they didn’t meet before. He’s been down to Delphi a couple of times and even to that fight club, but he’s never seen her. Now, he’s been inside her and she’s starting to take over his thoughts. He’s been with plenty of women, but this is different, stronger, and if he were in his right mind, he’d leave now. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls on his shorts and jeans and walks around her apartment, checking out the art and the mess and feeling a curiosity he hasn’t felt since he left the Fleet. _Until the Fleet abandoned him,_ he corrects. His jaw tightens at the brief flash of memory and he goes to the sink and rinses out a glass for water. He drinks half of it and dumps the rest, then opens the refrigerator to look for something stronger. 

He hears a door closing down the hall and her footsteps as she approaches. “You want ambrosia?” he calls out and reaches in for two bottles. 

“Sure,” she says and comes into the kitchen. He looks up at her and her hair is pulled back and she’s dressed in an old C-bucs t-shirt. She’s scrubbed her face clean, cuts along her brow bright red against pale skin and the rise of a bluish bruise no longer covered by make-up; she looks more beautiful than ever. His eyes linger on her face as he opens the bottle and hands it to her, feeling unexpectedly nervous before she moves away to sit at the metal table in the center of the room. 

He slides out a chair and sits, eyes glancing around at the walls, covered in canvasses. “Did you paint these?”

Kara takes a drink and follows his eyes. “Yeah.” 

“They’re amazing. But what about that one. That yours, too?” He gestures towards one that doesn't fit the rest, a blank white painting with a line of gray and black tangles along the edge. 

“Yep,” her tone is short and his discomfort rises. It’s been so long since he’s talked to anyone – just normal conversation – that he feels like a kid in school. It’s unnerving and refreshing, but he doesn’t quite remember how. 

He hears his own inhalation before he talks. “How’d you get into fighting?” he finally asks and she laughs. 

“Well, that was awkward,” She says and he laughs, too, and the weirdness fades a little. “You tell me first, why did you get into fighting?”

Lee considers her questions and thinks of a hundred answers he doesn’t want to say. He just settles on the simplest. “I needed to hit something.” He takes a drink and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and tips the bottle towards her. “How about you?” 

“Same. Still do. I love it.” Kara starts to talk about fighting and her matches and he shifts back into his seat and relaxes. A strange look passes over her face as she’s talking, like she’s recognizing something, and then it passes and she’s telling a story.

He drinks and listens and laughs and it feels like a little tick of being normal again. Absently, he realizes that can’t even remember the last time he laughed. 

When they finish their ambrosias Kara stands and goes to the refrigerator. He snakes out a hand and slides it along her back as she bends to reach two more bottles. She turns around, letting the door drift shut as she moves her body close to his. He lifts her shirt and kisses her stomach, tasting the saltiness of her skin and feels his arousal sharpening. 

Her skin is soft against his tongue, but he feels the muscles working as she shifts closer. His desire for her is intense, more than he’s ever felt, and his mind starts to wander to other things, to wanting more than just a frak and it strikes him that he really might be crazy. He nearly shakes his head to push the thoughts away. _It’s just a frak,_ he reminds himself. He grabs her ass and squeezes her body against his face, teeth nipping the flesh along her ribs. She shivers and slides the cold bottles down his arms. He shivers, too.

When she steps away he looks up at her, and she’s got that wicked smile on her face again as she waves him to follow her down the hall. She leads him into her bedroom, its small windows open to let the cold air rush through. She shoves the mess of blankets onto the floor and pushes him down to sit on the bed, kissing him hard and long, using her hands to prevent him from touching her. She’s in control and he loves it. 

Kara drags her lips and tongue and nails down his chest to the edge of his shorts and kneels in front of him. When she slides away the fabric and takes him into her mouth, he groans and pushes his fingers into her hair. She stops moving and shakes her head a little. He grins at her game and removes his hands, focusing instead on the delicious things she’s doing to him. 

Her head bobs along his cock and his fingers curl into fists as he holds them firm on the bed. It’s her game and godsdamn she’s good at it. He closes his eyes and feels sensation coiling in his balls, tighter and tighter until he can’t take it. 

“Kara,” he grits, surprised to find her name on his tongue. In one smooth movement, he slides his hands under her arms and pulls her mouth off of him. She resists at first and then laughs as he spins them around and pins her on the bed. He’s starving for her and he holds her head in his hands to ravage her mouth. She pulls at his flesh and wraps her legs around his waist, pressing herself against his hardness. If he thought he wanted to frak her before, he had no idea. He’s flooded with desire and shoves a hand between them, pushing it under the thin cloth of her panties. He slides the tips of two fingers down the slickness of her folds and pushes them inside, thrusting hard until she’s bucking against him. Her fingers wrap around his cock and she strokes a few times before he pulls away. 

“No touching. Remember the rule,” he chides and then he releases her and moves away, sliding down the bed, his gaze drifting over her curves. Her eyes are heavily lidded and she just quirks a smile at him, rising up on her elbows to watch. “Do your worst, cowboy.” 

He chuckles a bit and pushes his hands under her ass and flips her. He hears a startled gasp and then laughter into the pillow as she slides her hands underneath it. Her ass is gorgeous and he raises her onto her knees, grabbing his cock and sliding it along her slickness. She rocks back, seeking more and he backs away. Instead, he slides his fingers down to her clit, massaging in erratic strokes. He watches as she arches her back and hears her gasp when he hits the right rhythm. And then he shifts his movement, never letting her come, just pushing her to the peak time and time again. He’s so godsdamned aroused that it’s nearly impossible not to frak her, but he breathes slowly and focuses on the mess of a blond ponytail on the sheets. He wants her to come, but not like this. 

He pushes her forward and she crawls closer to the headboard, his eyes fixed on her ass as she moves. He lies down on his back, putting his face between her legs and grips her thighs as she hovers over him. At the first touch of his mouth, she moans long and low and his cock is so frakking hard it takes all his self-control not to frak her. He breathes again, slowly, focusing on lapping his tongue along her folds. 

He hears her groan his name, and thinks maybe she says please as he laps, gently making small suckling rhythms that have her writhing against him. He grips her thighs tighter, holding her still and flicks his tongue against her clit, light and feathery strokes, moving faster and faster until she’s bucking against him and shouting in orgasm, her body trembling and shuddering with small explosions.

Her hand finds his face and she gropes for his mouth, dipping a finger in for him to suck and then two. The sliding strokes are his undoing and he pushes up under her as she slides down at the same time. Neither of them can wait and she impales herself onto him, moving fast and mindlessly against him. He can’t think any more, can’t strategize how he’s going to frak her, just lets his body go. It’s wild and intense and they come almost together, gripping flesh and leaving marks. 

Kara’s body is soaked with sweat when she collapses onto him. He slides them up to the pillows and she collapses onto his chest as his fingers draw lazy circles on her back. 

“Frak…” she sighs and buries her face into his neck, nipping with her teeth and then exhaling with a whoosh. He chuckles and squeezes her against him. He waits for the weirdness to settle in, or for her to ask him to leave, but she doesn’t. She lies on top of him for a long while until her breathing slows and she falls asleep. He shifts a little and slides her off, easing out of the bed to use the bathroom before he pulls the comforter off the floor and covers her. He closes the window and slides under the blankets to spoon against her. 

He’s asleep before his head hits the pillow.

~*~

By the time they wake, the sun is casting a bright light onto the bed. Kara blinks her eyes open, momentarily confused by the warm body behind her. Matt’s arm is draped possessively around her middle and instead of the irritation she’d usually feel, she pushes back against him, remembering the passion of the night before. She feels a change in his breathing as he wakes, shifting his body against her.

“Morning,” he says, voice gritty with sleep. 

“Morning yourself,” she answers and slides her hand along his thigh. She feels his hardness against her ass and shifts her hips towards him, eliciting a small groan in her ear. She can’t remember the last time she shared her bed for the whole night, but this feels right. 

When her stomach growls unexpectedly, she chuckles. “The boss is calling. Let’s get some food.” 

She slides away from him, pulls on a t-shirt and panties and pads to the bathroom. She hears him stirring before she splashes water onto her face and brushes her teeth. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she feels a nervous flutter in her stomach and rolls her eyes at her own reflection. _Relax._

She heads to the kitchen and hears the water running in the bathroom. “You want coffee?” she calls out as she puts scoops of coffee into the coffeemaker. 

“That’d be great,” he calls back. “Mind if I take a shower?” 

“Go ahead,” she answers over her shoulder as slides the pot into the machine and pushes it back against the wall. After digging around her closet for a clean towel, she taps on the door. “Here you go. Water pressure sucks and be warned gets cold real fast. I’d make it quick.”

He opens the door a bit and their eyes meet for the first time in the light of day. His eyes are brilliant blue and his small smile creates a fan of wrinkles at the corners. _Gods, he’s gorgeous,_ she thinks, and feels a flutter in her stomach. He snakes out a hand and takes the towel from her, their fingers brushing as he does. Then he tucks the towel under his arm and slides his fingers behind her neck to pull her in for a kiss. He tastes like toothpaste as she slips her tongue inside his mouth. She feels the pressure of his hand in her hair as he kisses her, teasing and tasting, stubble brushing roughly against her chin as they change the angle of their mouths. His fingers touch her face and then drift down onto her shoulder before their kiss softens and they pull apart. 

His mouth is red and wet. “A proper good morning was in order. Good morning.” He smiles and her breath catches as his face transforms; she gives him an answering grin. 

“Good morning. Coffee’s cooking…you hungry?” She steps back a little, gesturing to the kitchen. “I don’t have much and never cook.” Her hand pushes a stray hair out of her face as she watches him turn away to slide the shower curtain open. 

“Anything, Kara. Coffee sounds like a good start.” He reaches in to turn on the water, and the spray stutters to full blast. 

Kara finds herself staring at the flexing of the muscles along his ass and thighs as he tests the water. She opens her eyes wide, blows out a breath and shakes her head. _Keep it cool, Kara._

The rumbling of her stomach continues as she opens the refrigerator and sighs; she never has food and they’re going to have to go out. She feels flicker of disappointment as she imagines him leaving at some point in the day. She realizes with a start that she doesn’t want him to go.

A few minutes later, a loud _frak_ and the squeak of the shower control makes her chuckle. Soon, she hears the door and Matt’s footsteps as he goes back into the bedroom. He emerges in his jeans and she appraises him sidelong as she pours coffee. What she sees with her eyes, the sculpted muscles of his arms and chest, matches what she felt with her hands in the dim light of her bedroom the night before. Just thinking about it makes her want him all over again.

She takes a breath and turns, handing him a full cup. “Sugar over there. No milk, though. Sorry.”

“Thanks.” He takes the cup and drinks, looking around the small kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

“About a year. It’s a dump, but it’s cheap and the roaches are friendly.” She winks at him and blows across the top of her cup. “Where do you live?” The coffee is still scalding as she sucks in a few sips.

“Caprica City, above the fight club. It’s worse than this. Especially when it rains...” Something passes over his face, pain or regret, but it’s too fast to identify. He leans against the counter and takes a drink of his coffee, his tongue darting out to slide over his lips.

“How long have you been fighting?” Kara drops down into a chair and puts one foot on the table leg. 

“About a year.” His answer is short and she feels like she shouldn’t push. 

“Me, too. Started a club down by the river – an old factory. Meet there a couple times a week. You should come by.” As soon as she says it, she snaps her mouth closed. _Frak. This isn’t how you play the game,_ she chides herself. 

“Yeah, I’ll check it out.” His voice sounds non-committal and she gets that sinking feeling again. 

She shrugs. “We fight. You fight. It’s a good group, tough and loyal. Come if you want. Or don’t.” Her tone is flippant and she drinks a gulp of coffee, scalding her tongue and cursing.

Kara glances at him, sees a muscle in his jaw twitch and she pushes her chair back and stands, tossing out the rest of her coffee in the sink. “Anyway, I don’t have any food, so if you’re hungry, you’ll have to go out.” She leaves the kitchen holding a breath and goes into the bedroom. 

Her mind is spinning the conversation around in her head. _Shouldn’t mean a thing. Damnit._ She yanks her shirt off and slips out of her panties, pulling on fresh ones as she digs around for a tank. Sliding it over her head, it catches on her pony tail and she jerks her head to let it pass. Her jeans are in the living room and she walks down the hall without saying a word. 

When she turns, Matt is there, bending over to pull his t-shirt off the floor. She has no idea what to do. She wants him to stay. Can’t ask. _Gods, why is this shit so hard?_

~*~

He slides the shirt over his head and pulls it down, looking around for his boots. This isn’t how he wanted things to go with her. _Godsdamnit._ It’s been so long, years in fact, since he’s wanted to be with someone. And she’s so frakking amazing and he’s messing it up.

“Look, Kara…” He shifts his feet and tugs at his shirt.

She turns and looks at him. “No big deal, Matt. Thanks for the ride.” She pulls on her jeans with tight motions, her mouth pressed into a hard line. In his gut he knows that if he doesn’t fix this now, it’s done. 

“Frak,” he curses and takes three steps towards her to grab her arm and pull her towards him. She spins but doesn’t shake him off. Her eyes are ready for a fight. “This is NOT how I want this to go.” He doesn’t know how to say what he wants, but his heart is in his throat, hoping he’s not wrong about their connection.

She stares right back and then looks away, and he sees her body relax. “Me neither.” Her voice is softer than he expects and he releases her arm. They stand awkwardly for a long moment before she moves away and slips her feet into shoes. 

When she turns back to him, her face is relaxed and bright. Whatever had sprung up between them has passed. He lets out a relieved breath and smiles back.

“Let’s get some food.”  


~*~

_Triton Falls, Picon_

_Kara taps fingers against the padded gurney as she waits for the doctor to come into the room. Her hand is still bleeding from the gash she cut into it on the cargo door of her Jammer. She’s wrapped a greasy cloth around it, cursing herself for not being more careful. The first part of her last donut run is over and just when she’s about to head home and get back to vipers, she does something clumsy._

_She cradles her hand and slowly unwraps the gray cloth, now soaked through with blood. The wound is on the fleshy part of her hand and thank the gods she can move all of her fingers. A sliced tendon would have frakked her good._

_There’s a tap at the door and a tall dark-skinned doctor enters. “Hi, Lieutenant Thrace, I’m Dr. Rendell, or you can call me Simon. Let me take a look at that hand.” His eyes linger on her face long enough that it makes her uncomfortable and she extends her hand._

_He makes chitchat while he works. “So, you’re a pilot? Don’t see many of you up here.” He unwraps the rest of the rag and turns to the tray next to him._

_Kara nods. “Yep. Usually fly vipers, but got stuck, um, I mean assigned to this route for a few weeks.” She looks around the room and hopes he didn’t notice her insult._

_Gently, he rinses and cleans the wound. Washed, it doesn’t look as bad as she’d feared. “It’s going to need a few stitches. And a tetanus shot. You cut it on a piece of metal, right?”_

_She nods again, remembering vaguely that she’d had a tetanus shot a while back. The doctor leaves before she can tell him and she swings her legs impatiently._

_Ten minutes later, the doc comes in again, his voice a lilting in a sing-song kind of way. He settles onto the rolling stool and puts her hand on a tray. “This is going to hurt, so I’ll put some anesthetizing spray on it first.” He squirts clear liquid from a bottle and the pain eases and drifts into numbness. He works slowly and carefully and she’s impatient._

_“I don’t care about a scar, Doc. I just want to get out of here. I’m going back to Caprica today. Back home.”_

_“Almost done,” he says, and continues to thread a few more stitches in the wound. A little overkill, she thinks._

_The doctor drops the needle back onto the tray and lifts her hand off of it. “The anesthetic will wear off in an hour or so. I’ll have the nurse give you some antiseptic wash to keep it clean. Use it twice a day, all right?” He smiles a little, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Kara feels a nervous flutter in her chest._

_“Now for the tetanus.” He pulls a syringe from a pack. “Can you pull down your suit, Lieutenant. This needs to go into your arm.”_

_Kara struggles with her flight suit and he helps her lower one sleeve enough for him to jab the needle in. It burns for a moment and she blinks as the room starts to spin. In the distance she hears a metal tray crashing to the floor and then nothing._

~*~

A couple of hours later, they’re back at her apartment, half-undressed and kissing against her bedroom door. They’ve been flirting all day, and by the time they return to her place, he can’t keep his hands off her.

“Gods, I want you,” he grates in her ear. His fingers pop the button on her jeans and the zipper slides open as he pushes his hand inside, dipping into the heat between her legs. 

Kara gasps against his mouth and he shoves off her pants as best he can. Chuckling, she kicks them into a pile, and they do the same with his. The heat of her body rubs against him, soft skin, the movement of taut muscles under his hands as he slides his fingers over her hips and ass. For the first time in a year, he feels his obsession with the Fleet and the government easing, getting lost under the intensity of his need for her. It’s good to feel something other than rage and he senses a shift out of the dark place where he’s been living.

A sharp pinch breaks his reverie and he chuckles and digs his fingers into her sides to tickle her, eliciting a sharp squeal of laughter and a hard slap on his ass. He feels the burn of the slap and grabs her arms, holding them roughly behind her back as he walks them over to the bed. The energy between them turns fierce as she looks up at him with a dare in her eyes. A thrill of arousal runs through him. 

He grinds against her, holding her arms immobile as he licks her breasts, swirling his tongue around each nipple, her back arching against him. His mouth slides lower and he adjusts the grip on her wrists, nipping at her hipbones and her thighs with his teeth. She squirms under his mouth, and he feels a shiver run through the length of her body. His tongue skims over the flat of her abdomen, and feels a change in the texture of her skin. He pulls back, and wrinkles his brow, seeing a round scar below each hip and one larger oval one, rough and jagged around the edges, right below her navel. He traces his fingers along the pink ridged circles. 

“What are these?” He asks, looking up at her and she blinks, body tensing against him. 

The energy in the room shifts. “Nothing. Old surgery scars.” 

She steps backwards and sits abruptly on the bed, pulling him down on top of her, mouth locking on to his. Some flicker of memory tugs at him, but when she reaches down and strokes his erection, the thought disappears. She kisses him hungrily, surprising him with her unexpected fervor. Her hands are on him, stroking fast, and she spreads her legs wide, angling him against her wet opening. She’s impatient, almost growling at him and she digs her nails into his ass, urging him to frak her. 

He closes his eyes and plunges inside, her heat surrounding him as he groans into her neck. Her legs wrap around his hips and he rides her, their mouths jamming roughly together as her hips jolt against his. She’s moaning and keening under him, her head thrashing on the sheets and he feels her shift away from him, losing herself into a place he can’t follow. 

It’s familiar, like the first night they frakked against her truck, back when they were strangers. It’s hot and delicious, but feels emptier than he wants, different than what he's felt all day. He tries to slow, to connect to her again, and she bites him, shoving hard against his chest and flipping him over. She needs to be in control and he lets her. 

When they’re done she rolls off him, panting. “That’s exactly what I needed,” she says and walks across the room to find her panties. Lee watches her, eyes narrowed. Something’s changed and he has no idea what.

She pulls on her jeans and digs a t-shirt out of a drawer. “I’m going to the club. I have things to do.” She rakes her fingers through her hair and pulls it into a pony tail. Fishing an elastic out of her pocket, she wraps it tightly behind her head.

He watches her with a sense of trepidation, the connection to her now completely gone. It’s more disappointing than he expects and he throws his arm over his eyes, not sure what to do. They’re shifting back into reality and he doesn’t want to go. The thoughts he’s been barring all day come filtering back, everything he’s seen and has done and has tried to do, bright and horrible images rushing through his mind.

Her footsteps echo down the hall as she walks away from him without another word.

~*~

_Triton Falls_

_Lee drops a few tools into a bag, grabs his military id, and climbs into the van to go to the medical center to check out the cameras. He backs out of the driveway of the surveillance house and makes the wide turn to drive down into the prison parking lot. A high metal fence with barbed wire curled around the top marks the outer perimeter of the detention center. Inside that, a wide grassy area and a high brick wall that separates the maximum and minimum security parts of the prison._

_Moving with sure steps, Lee slings the bag over his shoulder and pulls the lightweight stepladder out of the back of the van and approaches the guard station. He waves his badge, falsified to read Specialist Lee Adama, and the woman passes him through the gate and directed to the other guards station serving the minimum security area. Colonel Archer, his old CO, has made sure that Lee can enter the building to repair the cameras. One guard checks his ID while another examines his bag and the ladder and asks him to step through a security screening devices. Lee waits patiently for the security checks and is cleared._

_He follows the curving sidewalk past the minimum security building, a four story concrete structure with oddly shaped windows jutting out like a bumpy cucumber. It’s ugly, but he assumes the prisoners appreciate the small view afforded them through the thick plexiglass windows. He turns at the back of the building and takes another path down a small hill towards the medical building._

_Pressing the intercom, he announces himself and is buzzed through. It’s the weekend and he knows that the medical center is running a skeleton crew. A man with sandy blond hair and a smirking expression has his feet propped up on a chair reading a book. He looks up._

_Lee gives a nod as he walks by. “Slow day today?” The man smiles vaguely and goes back to his reading._

_Unfettered, Lee walks down the corridor to camera number two, tucked into the corner of the long corridor. He opens the ladder and steps up. The light is flashing red and he can see the connections as they run into the ceiling. He pulls out his phone and calls Halberstam._

_“I’m at camera two. What are you seeing?”_

_“Same, Captain. Grainy with a flicker.” He hears Halberstam typing near the phone. “I’m rotating the camera. Is it responding?”_

_Lee watches it as it rotates. “Yep. It’s working. I don’t see any connection issues. I’m going to cycle power. Hold on.”_

_He pushes the power button, waits for a count of thirty, and pushes the button again. The red light flickers momentarily before holding a steady brightness. “Any change?” Lee asks._

_“Nothing. Went black, of course, when the power was down, but the image is the same. You want to pull it?”_

_“Yeah. I’ll call you back when I’ve installed the new one.” Lee hits the END button and pulls a boxed camera out of his bag. He’s brought a fully tested camera to help him troubleshoot the problem. He pulls the old one down and replaces it. The whole thing takes ten minutes and it’s powered on when he calls Halberstam back._

_“Done. What do you see?” Lee is hopeful the problem will be solved._

_“Same thing. Damn,” Halberstam says. “Oh, sorry, sir.” The man stutters to Lee._

_“I feel the same way. All right. Let me check the other ones on this floor.” He swaps out the camera again and drops the good one into his bag and climbs down the ladder, folding it and tucking it under his arm._

_Thirty-five minutes later, he’s checked the other cameras and the results are the same._

_He takes the steps two at a time and checks the cameras on the second floor – same thing again._

_“All right, Specialist. Earn your salary. What is going on here?” Lee has basic electronics knowledge, enough to re-wire cameras and a viper’s avionics system, but Halberstam is the expert._

_“I’m not sure sir, but I have noticed something strange. The cameras on the second floor are grainy, but not as much as the ones on the first floor. And cameras eleven and twelve are worse. Eleven and Twelve are almost completely black, sir. Where are those?”_

_“In the basement, why?” Lee’s starting to understand._

_“Interference, sir? Maybe there is medical equipment that interferes with the camera signal? It’s worth a look.”_

_“Roger that. Adama out.” He slides the phone back in his pocket and heads back down the stairwell with his equipment._

_The lowest floor of the medical building has gray cinder-block walls and a low ceiling and he ducks slightly as he turns the corner of a corridor in search of the first camera. He finds it in a darkened corner and he’s not surprised that the feed would be dim. He takes one step up on the ladder and calls Halberstam again._

_“I’m at eight. I’ve cycled power. Any change?” Lee’s already pulling the test unit out of his bag. He knows how this is going to go._

_“No, Sir.”_

_“Okay, hold on.” Lee switches the devices and the result is the same. No change._

_“I’m going to see if I can find the source of the interference. It makes no sense.” Lee hangs up the phone and props his ladder near the rear stairwell._

_He walks through the corridors of the basement, ducking his head to avoid low pipes until her comes to an area more brightly lit. He glances around and finds no cameras. He is sure this is where they are supposed to be. Two gray double doors are off to the side and he pushes against them. Locked._

_“Halberstam, check the blueprints. Where are eleven and twelve? I don’t see them.”_

_He hears the tapping of keys as the specialist pulls up the info on his computer. “Northern end, sir. Near the water inlet and standpipe number…six. Do you see it?”_

_Frowning, he looks around the room again. “Yeah. I see the standpipe. Number six. No cameras. What the hell?” Frustrated, Lee pushes on the double doors again. “What’s behind these doors?”_

_“Doors? I don’t see doors, sir. I’m no expert at reading blueprints, sir, but it looks there’s a wall and a big empty space.” He hears curiosity in Halberstam’s voice. “Maybe there’s a power plant or something there? Didn’t get drawn in?”_

_Lee shakes his head. “I’ll check it out.”_

_Something about this place has creeped him out since he walked in. He ignored the feeling, assuming it was nerves about the mission. Now, though, pieces are starting to click into place and he realizes that not only is the medical center run on a skeleton staff – there are no patients. He’d expect to see a few people recovering from illnesses or prison-related injuries. And with more than three hundred prisoners at the prison, seeing no nurses or patients is now striking him as extremely odd._

_With a sense of urgency, he tries the handle again. It’s locked tight. He edges around the corridor, looking for a second entrance, and finding none, returns to the doors. He’s got no way in and considers kicking the doors open, but that’s a sure way to alert someone that he’s digging around. Leaning against the far wall, he scans the door and the wall around it. A keypad access panel! Why hadn’t he seen that before?_

_With a grin, he pulls out a small screwdriver and loosens the metal plate and then the keypad from the wall. He examines the circuits and finds the two live wires. He tugs on them carefully, pulling the stripped ends loose and shields his face with his arm. There’s a loud crackling sound as he touches the two wires together. The lights in the hallway flicker for a second and he tries the door again. It opens._

_He pushes it slowly and slides inside, his eyes adjusting to the dim lights. There’s a whir of fan noise from electronics, and a steady beeping from a machine across the room. Lee scans and stops, frozen in his tracks by what he sees: two rows of beds, each with a woman lying naked, tubes and wires protruding from their bodies up towards the ceilings. His mouth drops open and his eyes grow wide. He shuffles forward, moving in slow motion as his mind tries to comprehend. He swallows against a sickening feeling in his throat._

_His breath is tight in his chest as he moves, adrenaline leaving a sharp tang in his mouth. The women’s legs are propped on foam wedges and some with their legs splayed wide, revealing their most private parts. He can’t believe someone would allow them to be this way._

_The rubber tubing he saw stretching up from their bodies is attached to their abdomens with large silver rings. Lee swallows back bile and holds on to the edge of a nearby chair. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe, but his mind rejects any sense of calm. He can’t understand what he is seeing. Why are these women here? What are they doing to them? His mind is racing in panic. Every fiber of his being is screaming out at the wrongness of what he sees._

_He walks between the rows of women and, to his horror, sees that some with large pregnant bellies. His heart is thudding loudly in his ears now and all he can think is that he needs to contact Colonel Archer. He has to know about this. Has to stop this._

_Lee reaches the other end of the beds and hears a groan. A small olive-skinned woman is moving her head slightly. He rushes to her side. “Can you hear me?” He touches her arm with a trembling hand._

_She seems to move at the sound of his voice. “Can you hear me. What is your name?” Her lips move, but what she says is unintelligible; she’s not really conscious. He glances around, wondering if there’s a chart, some way to see what this is all about, but there is none. He stares at the swell of her belly and his heart is in his throat as he sees the movement of a baby shifting inside. A sudden wave of dizziness hits him and he turns away to vomit, his stomach spewing its contents to the floor. His skin is damp with sweat and his racing heart makes him want to flee. He wants to free them, but he can’t. What would he do? How could he? What if they died?_

_The implications of this horrible room start to coalesce in his mind. These women have to be part of an experiment, some horrible kind of fertility program that they could not have possibly agreed to. They have to be prisoners – a perfect supply of women who will never be missed. It’s impossible, he realizes, that the fleet doesn’t know. The blood rushes into his face. The horror of what he is seeing splits off and is supplanted by outrage. Prostitution first, now this. Everything he thought and believed about the Fleet has left him in an instant._

_He scans the room, his shock subsumed by purpose and his senses sharpening as his military training kicks in. He walks to the side of every bed, touches the arm of each woman and makes a promise. His mind is filled with details that he will later commit to paper._

_He’s going to make sure someone stops this._

~*~

Blowing wind and rain pelt their clothing as they step out the door of Kara’s apartment building. She hasn’t said anything more to him, just pulls the door closed and takes a step down to the sidewalk. He has decided to hoof it to the train station and head back to Caprica City. He feels deflated and a little pissed that this is all ending. He thought there was something amazing between them. He was wrong.

He watches her cross through the parking lot in the heavy rain, her face ducked down as he reaches the truck and his heart pinches. Setting his jaw, he’s about to walk in the other direction when she turns to him, her face bunched up as rain pelts her skin. She yells through the sound of the storm. “Come with me.”

He automatically shakes his head. “You come here,” he shouts and leans back against the door, his hands dug in his pockets. He’s not a dog that follows. She has to want it, too.

Her fingers grip the handle of the truck, and she dips her head for a long moment. She lets go of the handle and he feels their connection again, arcing across the twenty feet that divides them. Kara turns, taking two steps towards him and he pushes off the door and walks towards her. Rain slides down his back, but he barely notices. Their eyes are pinned together, and they meet in the middle, embracing in a rush of emotion. She’s the most confusing person he’s ever met, but he wants her.

She tilts her head up to look at him and he kisses her. The rain pours down all around them, soaking through their clothes, but it goes unnoticed. Her mouth is hot and welcoming and he realizes in one crazy instant that maybe he loves her. _Godsdamit,_ is all he can think because it’s just frakking crazy. But when she finally pulls away, giving him a saucy grin, and yanks him towards the truck, he knows it’s true.

~*~

They make it to the truck, but it’s another twenty minutes before they pull out of the parking lot. Their kiss and the rain and the intensity of their connection makes her head spin and she needs him inside her. They frak on the seat of her truck, opening the window a little to let the rain splatter in. The storm outside echoes the passion between them and she imagines she hears thunder shuddering around them as she comes.

Matt’s hand is on her neck as she drives, his thumb stroking along her jaw and throat, wiping away rain as it drips off of her wet hair. She feels adored, and is enthralled in return. For the first time in forever, she doesn’t really want to go to the club, would rather stay cocooned in their newly found whatever it is. She glances over at him, finds him watching her, the same look as that first night, hungry and wanting, but there’s a softness around his eyes that makes her shiver. Tilting her head down to his hand, she bites his finger and a chuckle rumbles through her. 

Soon enough, though, they’re at the club and she shifts back into the fighter and leader she’s become. Matt’s by her side, his hand low on her back, fingers grazing her ass. It’s rare that she comes into fight club with a lover and it’s usually just so he can fight. Tonight, she wants Matt to watch. 

Twenty or so men and women mill around the club, their faces eager with anticipation. They need this release, want to hear the message and be part of something bigger. She sees their eyes going to Matt, a few nods of recognition trickle through the crowd as she pushes towards the middle. Matt lingers on the edges and she catches his eyes before she speaks, lingering, mouth half-turned up in a cocky smile. She tightens her ponytail and takes a breath, energy vibrating through her body. 

“The first rule of fight club…” Her face is serious as she talks, brow knitted with the weight of the crowd’s expectations. People shift and around her she hears belts and shoes and shirts being tossed into a pile. Everyone wants to fight.

Kara finishes the rules and takes a beer offered by someone in the crowd. She turns to seek out Matt’s eyes when the door opens again. Her eyes flash to the source of the cold air and she groans. It’s Zak. His face is still bruised and cut from the last fight and she’d honestly never expected to see him again. Frak.

Stepping back, she moves away to the other side of the crowd as two men prepare to fight. She hears the first crunch of a fist on a face as they begin, and the slow start of the cheering as the fight gains momentum. Kara finds a spot and watches, feeling more than the confrontation of the fight. There’s something else brewing and even if she can’t put her finger on it, she feels a tightening in her gut. 

“Kara,” Zak’s voice comes from behind her, closer than she wants. 

She takes a step to the side and turns. 

“Zak…” she drawls, glancing at him and taking a swig from the bottle. 

“You fighting tonight?” he asks, and she just nods. 

Zak steps forward to stand at her side as Kara watches the two fighters, an evenly matched pair, and she thinks it’s a good way to start the night – two regulars showing the first-timers how it’s done. Their hits are well-timed, seasoned with experience, and when Brian, the taller one goes down, she’s surprised. She raises an eyebrow at Zak, who knows the two men and he looks surprised, too. The tension between them eases a bit and she lets out a breath. 

Unexpectedly, the crowd surges back toward the outer wall as the two men come off the makeshift cardboard ring and roll onto the rough cement. Zak grabs her upper arm to pull her out of the way and she throws him a glare and shakes him off. They move as the crowd re-orients itself into a tighter ring around the fighters. There’s a person between them now and Kara shifts farther away, her irritation returning. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Matt, and their eyes lock for a quick second before he ducks behind a pillar and comes around the back. She’s about to turn around, a half-smile on her face when she hears Zak’s voice.

“Lee?” The tone of Zak’s voice grabs her attention and she whips around. Zak ignores her, his eyes fixed on someone across the room. He brushes past her and moves through the crowd. 

Kara’s eyes go wide as Zak rushes up to Matt and throws his arms around him. Matt, now grinning, hugs back and Kara’s brow wrinkles in confusion. There’s jostling around her as the fight moves the crowd again and she elbows someone who’s jammed into her. They give her a little space and she fixes her stare on the two men who are smiling and talking. _What the frak is going on?_

She steps forward and both sets of eyes swing towards her. Zak is grinning. “Kara. Oh my gods, this is Lee. Remember, I told—” 

“Lee? What do you mean Lee?” Her eyes narrow as she bores holes into both of them.

“Lee Adama. Remember, Kara? My brother.” Zak is grinning, oblivious of the tension between the two of them. 

Kara’s face flattens and her body goes rigid. She ignores Zak and speaks in a low tone, but loud enough for those nearby to hear. “Lee, huh? Well, Lee, nice to meet you.” She steps forward and puts out her hand, rage etching her features. Lee puts his hand out automatically, face frozen in his lie. Kara grabs his hand and crushes it in hers, stepping close and gritting her words through clenched teeth, “You frakking lied to me, you asshole.” She rears back and spits in his face before spinning on her heel and shoving through the crowd.

~*~

“Kara!” Lee shouts, wiping his face and brushing past Zak to go after her. “Kara, wait!”

The eyes of the crowd are swinging between Kara and the fight that’s ending in the center of the circle. 

She spins around and faces him, hands cocked on her hips. “Why? So you can frakking lie. Forget it.” She starts towards the door again and Lee grabs her arm and spins her towards him. 

“Don’t frakking touch me.” Her face is mottled with rage and she shoves him. 

Lee stumbles back. “Kara, listen to me.” He feels desperate, like everything is coming apart at the seams and he needs to explain.

“Frak you, Matt…or Lee or whatever the frak your name is. I can’t believe you frakking lied to me.” She goes for him then, shoving him again, her face twisted in anger.

He grabs her shoulders the next time she tries to shove him and she jerks back, wrenching herself out of his grip. Without warning, she cocks back and punches him in the face. It hurts like frak and Lee’s hand goes to his lip, wiping blood. He hears chuckles around the room, men and women watching a lover’s quarrel. _This is not the way it’s supposed to be._

Like a switch, adrenaline starts pumping in his veins and the thickness of a familiar rage sets in. He’s worked for a godsdamned year to build fight club and he’ll be godsdamned if anyone is going to ruin it. 

He leans close to her face, voice grating low and deadly, “How far do you want to push this, Kara?”

“How about this far?” She challenges back and punches him again. His body doesn’t move, but his head jerks back as pain radiates from his jaw. His eyes, small and focused, never leave her face.

“You wanna fight, Kara. You got it.” Lee steps back and pulls off his shirt. He kicks off his shoes and moves into the ring with low and deliberate movements. He’s pumped and ready as he watches Kara strip down to a black sports bra and jeans.

To his left, Zak moves towards him. “Lee, what’s going on? What are you doing?” His voice has a panicked edge as his eyes dart between his face and Kara’s. When he touches Lee’s arm, he shakes him off. 

“I’m fighting, Zak. What does it look like?” He doesn’t have time for this. Not now. _Frak._

Zak steps in front of him, blocking his view of Kara. “Godsdamnit, Lee. I haven’t seen you for two frakking years and you won’t even talk to me. Gods, you’re still an asshole.” Lee finally looks at him, but it’s too late. He watches Zak’s back as he pushes through the crowd towards the door.

When his eyes swing back to Kara, she’s looking at him with a cocky half-smile, energy radiating from her body. She strides towards him, eager to begin and he lets her throw the first punch. Her fist connects squarely with his nose and pain shoots through his eye sockets and he feels the slow trickle of blood inside his sinuses. He grinds his teeth against the pain, his eyes fixed on Kara as she smirks at him. He gives a tight smile back, responding to her taunting energy. Let her get full of herself, then he’ll attack.

With a laugh, Kara strikes him again, fist catching his throat as he tries to divert her blow. He swallows convulsively, takes a gulp of air and raises his fists to block her next shot. He leans back, about to throw a punch, but she surprises him and swipes his legs out from under him, sending him flying to the mat. His head bounces off the padded post, but he jumps back up, ready to hit. Kara dances away, eyes intent on his, watching every move as they circle around each other. He has to admit she’s an amazing fighter, strong and sure on her feet, eyes never leaving his – the mark of someone who knows how to look for weakness. He pulls his expression tight and watches her. 

Lee feints to the right and jabs a punch towards her face. She manages to miss most of it, but part of his fist connects with her temple and she shakes her head to clear it. Lee hits her again, his fist thudding hard against her stomach and she clenches, doubling over for a moment before ducking her head and plowing into him. Her head finds his solar plexus and he lets out a frustrated grunt as she jams him again into the post again. _Frak._ He shoves her hard off of him and she takes a tumble back, landing on her ass as he struggles to breathe. 

She stands, wiping her brow with her forearm, her pants hanging low on her hips. Some of his anger has drained away and he takes her in, thinking she is amazing and beautiful and he wonders what the frak he’s doing. _He doesn’t want this. Not really._ Kara’s eyes narrow with intent and she approaches. Anger is still set in her face and he deflects a punch, pain ringing through his forearm. She dodges back and his next swing misses.

“What the frak is wrong with you? Why don’t you hit me?” Kara taunts. “Unless you can’t,” she mocks, and Lee’s irritation ticks inside him again. She’s good at pushing his buttons and he doesn’t even know why. 

Kara shifts her body, preparing to strike, her eyes glittering from the energy of the fight and the crowd. She’s on her home turf and nearly every man and woman there roots for her. They don’t know who he is, that they’re all here because of him – fighting for a common cause. Even Kara, she doesn’t know…

Images flash in Lee’s mind, his focus faltering as they come, unbidden and requiring energy he doesn’t have to push them away. The women and the machines and the babies. He blinks, swallowing again, his eyes fixed on Kara, eyes sliding down, the bright red circle scars peeking out above her jeans. He blinks, eyes darting to her face, and back down again. _Oh gods._

Shock floods through him. _It’s not possible. No frakking way._ He sees a flash of a recurring nightmare, a faceless woman he loves hooked up to one of those machines, giving birth to a cylon baby. He shakes his head. _It can’t be true._ His eyes are glued to her abdomen, barely aware of her movements except that she’s suddenly close, hitting him hard in the face. The pain barely registers in the swirling flashback of beds and restraints and beeping machines and now Kara’s face in that horrifying place. 

Dazed, he steps back, and slides down the post. She approaches him, ready to strike again, and then she stops as he points up at her, finger jabbing towards her stomach.

“Kara…gods, your scars. You were there. In that place.” Lee’s is breathing hard now, the crushing emotions he’s felt for all of these months threatening to overflow. _Not here. Not now._ He can’t stop staring at her scars, imagining her in that basement with the tubes and a pregnant belly.

Kara gasps and Lee’s eyes snap to hers. Her skin is white and pale as her mouth hangs open, her hands tugging to pull up her jeans. Wide and shocked eyes stare down at him and she freezes for a long moment. Then she spins and shoves out of the crowd. Confused faces stare down at Lee, pulling him up and over to a chair. Someone hands him water and he looks up. It’s Zak.

Lee’s heart is thudding in his chest and he is soaked with sweat. “Where’s Kara?” he asks, eyes frantically searching through the milling crowd for her. 

“Kara left, Lee. She ran out of here like Hades himself was chasing her. What the hell happened? I’ve never seen her run from a fight.”

Lee takes a few gulping breaths and stands, finding his t-shirt and boots, and shoving them on. There’s another fight starting, and he moves close to Zak, his voice intense, “I have to find her.” He turns away from Zak and starts towards the door. 

Zak’s voice is sharp behind him. “Lee can you stop for one frakking minute and tell me what is going on?” 

Lee stops this time and twists halfway around. “Come with me then and help me find her. I have to find her.”

Zak follows him out the door and Lee scans the parking lot. “There’s her truck – empty.”

His eyes dart along the length of the building, but he doesn’t see her. He and Zak follow the sidewalk and look between the factory building and the next, a set of garages filled with old equipment. The alley is empty and they are about to move on when he smells smoke from a cigar. He glances at Zak and ducks under a half open garage door. Zak follows silently.

“Kara? You in here?” It’s nearly pitch black, but there’s smoke and he hears the crackling sound of burning tobacco. Then he sees the red tip burn a bright spot in the darkness.

“You okay?” he says, moving towards the red burning ember.

She doesn’t answer, but she sniffs and he hears the rustling of fabric as she moves. Pain thickens Lee’s chest; he needs to touch her. 

“Kara, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt things out like that. I need to talk to you.” He’s moving slowly towards her, and as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he can finally see her silhouette. She’s sitting on a low and wide seat, probably the back seat of an old car someone had ripped out and tossed into the garage for parties.

“Lee?” It’s Zak’s voice from behind him. He sounds unsure.

Lee pauses. “Zak, can you give us a minute?” 

There’s silence and then Zak mumbles, “Sure,” and he steps back under the garage door and lingers for a moment before walking away. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” Lee asks, suddenly feeling the need to be slow and gentle. He can’t imagine what she’s been through.

When she doesn’t answer, he sits beside her. His eyes sting as smoke wafts directly into them and he slides back, peering in her direction.

Kara’s voice is flat when she finally speaks. “You know, when we were talking last night, I thought you looked like Zak. Just for a second and then I forgot about it. Small world, huh?” She puffs on the cigar again, the glowing ember making her face briefly more visible.

“I haven’t seen him for almost two years. Didn’t know he was in Delphi.” Lee’s thoughts go to his mother and father, too; he hasn’t seen anyone in a long time.

“He’s a good kid. Fights like crap, though.” He hears a bit of a smile in her voice and he relaxes a notch.

Time ticks by slowly before she speaks again. “How do you know about that place, Ma – Lee?”

“Call me Matt. Lee doesn't exist anymore.” 

“Why?”

He decides that he needs to tell her everything. “Because I _know_ about that place, Kara. Captain Lee Adama knows about that place. Matt’s just someone I made up to stay off the grid.” He swallows and tries to see her eyes, but there’s only the faintest outline of her nose and chin. “And I’m sorry. I never meant to lie to you.”

Kara takes a breath and he senses her hand moving across the seat and he feels for it, squeezing her fingers and bringing them to his lips.

Kara grips his fingers hard. “That place, Matt. I’ve never told anyone.” Her voice catches and he slides his arm around her shoulders.

“Gods, Kara. I’m so sorry.” He pulls her into an awkward embrace. The cigar hits the ground and he hears it being crushed under her foot before her hands snake around his neck. She hugs him and then slides her face along his cheek to kiss him, mouth urgent. He knows she doesn’t want to think about it, wants to do something to make the thoughts go away. He’s done it a million times himself. 

Lee kisses her back gently, his fingers stroking her cheeks, tempering her desperation with comfort. She breaks their kiss and takes a deep breath. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

She tips her forehead against his and exhales. “Not really. Not sure I ever will be.” She gives a shaky laugh and he hugs her tight.

 

****

~*~

PART THREE

_Picon Station Military Outpost_

_Lee sits nervously in the outer office of Colonel Archer’s office. His secretary, a middle-aged woman with reddish short hair and a tiny mouth types away at a keyboard. The office is fitting for a career military man with thirty years of service behind him. A mounted portrait of President Adar hangs on the wood-paneled wall. Lee’s stomach sours and he forces himself to be calm._

_The secretary shows Lee into the Colonel’s office and he fires off a sharp salute. “At ease, Captain.” Archer, a gray-haired man with a round face and dark brown eyes, motions him to a chair. Lee nods and sits, his hands rubbing his legs nervously before he settles._

_“Your message said this was urgent, Captain. What can I do for you?” Archer eases back into his leather chair, a patient expression on his face. Lee’s anxiety notches up._

_Clearing his throat, Lee glances around the office, his eyes lingering momentarily on a photo of Colonel Archer, First Lady Celine Adar and Admiral Nagala. Lee snaps his attention back to the Colonel._

_“Sir, I’ve finished the surveillance installation at the Triton Falls Prison. Everything is in working order.” Lee doesn’t even know how to begin to describe the horrors of what he has seen._

_“Good work, Captain. I’m pleased that you were able to spare the time.” Colonel Archer stares at him, eyes narrowing slightly. “What else, Captain? Looks like you haven’t slept.” The older man leans forward._

_Lee lowers his voice. “Sir…I found something when I was there. A room, Sir, with women and equipment. I think it was a lab, some kind of experiment. The women—“ Lee starts talking fast, his voice becoming sharp as he begins to reveal what he has found._

_“Captain!” the Colonel barks and then lowers his voice. Lee blinks and clamps his mouth closed._

_Colonel Archer stands up and pulls his uniform jacket sharply down. “You are dismissed, Captain.”_

_Lee rises hesitantly, his eyes wide, and pulls himself into a salute. He maintains his position as the Colonel writes something on a sheet of paper and hands it to Lee. Slowly, he lowers his arm and takes the paper, his mouth hanging slightly open._ Something here is very wrong. __

_Colonel Archer’s mouth is curved into a deep frown. “Godsspeed, Captain,” he says, and turns his back._

_Lee folds the paper without looking at it and clutches it tightly as he exits the office, speeding past the secretary and out the door of the building._

_With shaking fingers, he pulls open the paper._

__Fellowship Book Store, 2300, Rear Entrance. __

 _Lee lets out a long breath._ What has he gotten himself into?

~*~

_The rear entrance of the bookstore is at the end of a long alley, and Lee feels nervousness crawling up his spine as he approaches and knocks. Colonel Archer, dressed in civilian attire, opens the door and waves Lee inside. He’s grim, his gait purposeful and determined as he leads Lee down a set of stairs to a book-lined room with dim lighting._

_“Have a seat, Captain.” He pours Lee a drink of amber liquid and hands it to him. “You’re going to need this.”_

_“Thank you, Colonel,” Lee mumbles, settling down onto a wooden chair, barely able comprehend what’s happening. His father is career military and he’s never heard of this kind of meeting. A flush of anxiety spreads through him and he pulls at his collar._

_“I’m sorry about the secrecy, son, but I needed to make sure we were not overheard.” Archer sits across from Lee and takes a long drink. His face looks older, wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced and tired._

_“Is this about what I found, sir?” Lee swallows a drink of his own._

_“Yes, Captain…Lee. What you saw does not exist.” Archer holds his eyes._

_“Sir?”_

_“There’s something going on in the Fleet, Captain. Something even I cannot believe.” The man shifts in his chair, adjusting the waistband of his pants before continuing. “I am telling you this in the strictest of confidence because I believe I can trust you. You are a junior office, but I’ve known your father for twenty years and I know what kind of man you both are.”_

_“My father knows about this?” Lee’s eyebrows rise in surprise._

_“Yes, he does. Well, he knows some things, but only a few people know about…what you saw. And I don’t think he’d approve of me telling you, but I can’t undo what you saw and I can’t imagine how you will keep it to yourself. It’s too horrifying, Lee. I can barely comprehend it myself.”_

_Lee’s stomach drops, leaving a sour emptiness and the taste of bile in his throat. “What is it, Colonel?”_

_“The cylons, Lee. The cylons have returned and President Adar has formed a secret alliance with them.”_

~*~

_Triton Falls Military Prison For Women_

_The first thing Kara sees when she opens her eyes is the white brightness of a light shining directly in her face. She squints and tries to look around the room. An overhead light has been tilted in her direction and it makes purple dots behind her eyes as she tries to figure out where she is. She moves her hands; they are tied, as are her legs. She blinks a few times and starts to feel the pain in her stomach, low down where her intestines are._

_The haziness of some drug is wearing off and she turns her head to the side. A woman is lying next to her in a similar bed, arms restrained, three large tubes protruding from her belly towards the ceiling. Kara looks down, squinting again from the light and moves her body; her own tubes waver between the purple dots. That’s when the panic starts and she moves frantically. She pulls at the arm restraint, yanking and twisting as she does the same with her legs. They barely move. Her breathing is fast and labored and sweat beads on her forehead._

_She remembers the shot and the face of the doctor and the room spinning and going black._ Oh gods, oh gods. _Tears stream down her face and into her hair as she thrashes._

_“Help!” she screams, her voice barely usable. “Help me!” Her throat is raw and parched and after a few squeaks, she stops, her body convulsing with sobs. She drops her head back onto the pillow, eyes darting around her – no one is there and everything except for her is still._

_Breathing deeply, she tries to calm herself, pulling slightly at the bonds, then she cries again, utterly terrified._ Oh gods… _She’s never been so scared in her life. A few minutes pass and she is able to calm down, breathing through the panic, military training kicking in. Something very wrong has happened here. She’s not sick. Not a prisoner._ Breathe…. _She closes her eyes, forcing them shut because every time she looks around the room she sees a duplicate of herself, women with different shapes and hair color, but each lying on her back with tubes protruding from her stomach. And some of the women have pregnant bellies._

 __Breathe, Kara, breathe… Oh gods. _Panic hits her again and sweat trickles between her breasts._

 _Kara counts in her mind, focusing on her training, breathing, testing each body part for injury. The tubes from her abdomen hurt bad, recent surgery and no pain meds. She breathes through it. It can’t matter. She needs to get the frak out of here._ Oh gods. __

 _To her left she hears a snick and feels the pressure change as a door is opened. She breathes as calmly as she can, forcing her body to relax. Her eyes are closed and her mind tracks the sound of footsteps coming closer and passing without stopping. Shuffling at the other end of the room and a few beeps of a machine. Oh gods! She breathes. In and out. In and out._ Calm… __

_Eventually, the footsteps trace their steps back to the door and she feels it open and close again. The room is empty except for the women and after a few minutes to be sure, she opens her eyes._

~*~

_Delphi_

Kara stumbles out of another fight, barely able to stand, a bloody grin plastered on her face. She falls into Lee, splatters of bright red staining his gray t-shirt. 

“You okay?” he asks and holds her up, leading her to a chair in the back of the club. When she’s sitting, he kneels down in front of her, mopping her face with a rag. He grimaces and looks at the wide cut across her nose. “I think it’s broken again.” 

She shakes off his ministrations. “Leave it. I’m fine.” She wipes sweat with her arm and works on catching her breath.

“You’re not fine. You’ve been fighting for five nights straight.” He puts the rag back up to her brow and she bats his hand away.

“I don’t need a mother, Matt. I’m fine.” She glares at him, moving to stand. She wavers a bit and grips his shoulder, sitting back down with a thud.

His lips flatten out. “Well, you don’t need a mother, but you could use someone to keep you from killing yourself.”

“I’m not sure that would be so bad,” she grates at him and reaches for a half-empty bottle of beer on the table next to her. 

Lee stares at her as she sniffs and then takes a swig. She lowers the bottle, her face still angry. “What?” she challenges.

A thousand things he wants to say are spinning through his mind, but none of them sound right. She’s out of control and he doesn’t know what to do. 

“Nothing… I just hate to hear you talking like that.” He eases back on his heels and sits on another chair, his eyes never leaving her face. 

She takes a second long drink, finishing the bottle and dropping it back onto the table. “Get used to it. The cylons and the Fleet frakked me up and down. This is it, Matt. This is all I have. Fighting and drinking.” She grimaces hard and pushes her hair off her face. 

“It’s not all you have,” he counters. He can’t reach her when she’s like this, high on a fight, still angry at the universe.

Kara doesn’t look at him, just pulls her hair more tightly into a ponytail and shakes her head. “I need another beer.” She stands and walks away, leaving him staring after her.

~*~

A few hours later, Lee’s throwing bottles into a garbage can when she comes out of the bathroom drying her hands on her pants. They haven’t spoken since she walked away and he suspects tonight will go like every other night. They’ll go home together, frak, pass out and do it all over again. Nothing more than that.

He senses her behind him, but just keeps working; he doesn’t have anything else to say. She needs to burn herself out and he’ll wait. 

“We have to do something about the farms,” she says, her voice flat and tired.

He stops his movements and turns towards her. “What do you mean?” It’s the first thing she’s actually said about the farms since he gave her the details five days before.

Kara stares at him with an unreadable expression, chewing on her lip before she answers. “We need to stop the Fleet from using those women. I can’t live with it, Matt. I can’t.” She dips her head and gazes at the floor. 

He approaches her and drops his hands onto her shoulders. “I know.” He strokes the side of her neck, his fingers rubbing in a soothing pattern along the soft flesh.

“We need to stop them, Matt,” she says again and he feels her trembling in under his hands. 

“Okay,” he breathes and pulls her against him. “We will.”

~*~

Later, Kara is sitting on Lee’s lap, talking as he twines her hair through his fingers. Kara’s calmer now that he’s agreed to help her. He doesn’t know what they can do because everything he’s tried has been thwarted by the government – letters, newsfeeds, the wireless – none of it has worked. He hopes Kara has a better plan.

Their discussion ends as the front door swings open and Zak hesitantly steps in. 

“Kara?”

Kara leans back and turns her head towards the door. “Yeah, Zak. Back here.” 

Lee shifts under her, trying to move her off before Zak comes in. Things are still weird between them and he doesn’t want to make it any worse. 

“No, stay here. We have to work this thing out.” She pins Lee with her body and he growls a little, deciding not to unseat her because she’s probably right.

He sees Zak in the dim light of the empty club, slowly approaching and squinting as his eyes to adjust to the darkness. 

“Lee?” He pauses and starts walking again.

“It’s Matt, Zak. You have to remember that.” Lee’s irritation rises another notch.

“Sorry…Matt, what are you guys doing? I was waiting to hear from you.” Zak sounds a little plaintive and Lee feels the guilt set in. Thoughts of his mother are always attached to Zak and he feels a sharp pang of missing her.

Kara answers, “Nothing to report, Zak.” Her arm slides around Lee’s neck as she turns to see Zak.

Zak finally reaches them, his face screwed up in annoyance. He looks past Kara and pins his eyes on Lee. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but this is lame. There are all these secrets between you two. What’s going on?” Lee wouldn’t have been surprised if Zak had stomped his feet. 

Lee shifts under Kara and pushes at her ass to move her off. She tightens her grip on his arm. 

“Yeah, Zak. There’s a lot of shit between us. Don’t worry about it.”

Zak’s face screws up in anger and Lee’s jaw tightens as old competitiveness sparks between them. 

“Godsdamnit, Lee…and yes, it’s Lee. You’ve been out of touch for an entire frakking year and you’ve barely given me an explanation? Mom thinks you might be dead and you’ve been avoiding me. What is going on?”

“Frak,” Lee grates and finally unseats Kara so he can stand and walk towards his brother. “I can’t tell you, Zak. Stuff went down and I had to leave the Fleet. Bad stuff. Things I can’t talk about, can’t even begin to explain.”

“But you can tell Kara?” he bites back, waving his finger at her.

“Kara already knew. She knew before I met her.” Lee takes a deep breath and lets it out fast. “I’m on the run, Zak. And you shouldn’t even be here.” Clenching his fists, he moves towards his brother. 

“That’s not your decision, Lee. Never has been. I go where I want to go.” Zak notches his head higher. Lee feels a groan forming. His brother’s always overestimated himself and now it could get them both killed.

“Not here, Zak! Not here and especially not now. Frak!” Lee shouts in frustration. He knows how Zak is, that he’s persistent and doesn’t quit until he wants to.

“Why not? Why are you on the run? What’s so terrible that you can’t tell me? I’m your brother.” Zak steps towards him and Lee steps back. He’s done everything in his power to avoid his family – to avoid anyone who could identify him to the authorities.

“I can’t tell you. Please, Zak. Go home. Go back to your post. Wherever you should be, just not here.” Desperation is licking at the edges of Lee’s tone. His gut tells him that Zak needs to go away.

“I don’t have anywhere, Lee. Don’t you get it? I failed out of flight school. Dad won’t even frakking look at me. I don’t have anywhere to go and you are my brother. What is wrong with you?”

Lee closes his eyes and takes a long breath, Zak’s words finally getting through. When he opens them, his expression changes and Zak blinks. 

Lee turns around and stares at Kara with a questioning expression. She shrugs and steps toward him, lacing their fingers together. Lee thinks for a moment and turns back to Zak. “Two conditions…”

Zak nods.

“One. Kara and I are together. You have to accept that.” Kara’s told him about their affair, and how it ended.

Zak looks from Lee to Kara and back, his face slightly pained. He doesn’t do anything, just waits for the next condition.

“Two,” Lee says, holding up two fingers. “You can’t tell a soul. If you do, they’ll find me and kill me. And maybe you and Kara, too.”

“Who will?” Zak asks, his face screws up in confusion.

“The conditions, Zak.” Lee says impatiently, holding his brother’s eyes. He hopes that Zak will walk away and never come back. Nothing about this makes him feel good and some part of him thinks this is a huge mistake. But it’s his brother. 

“I guess, I –” Zak sort of shrugs and Lee barks at him.

“No, Zak. No ‘I guess’.” Frustration mounts in Lee’s head and he turns away, letting go of Kara’s hand to pace. He feels Zak’s eyes on him and hears Kara talking to Zak. This can’t end well. 

“I’ll be back. I need some air.” He can’t deal with Zak coming back into his life. He’s terrified that something bad will happen. He can’t explain it, just feels it in his gut and now it’s too late. Lee steps past the two of them and leaves the building.

~*~

_Picon Station Military Outpost_

_Two days after his meeting with Colonel Archer and Lee still can’t sleep. He’s supposed to keep quiet, pretend he doesn’t know that the humans and cylons are performing experiments on human women in order to create a hybrid baby. A filthy alliance at the expense of innocents. For a week now, he’s been unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. He needs to do something._

_Brushing a hand across his face, Lee reaches for his cell phone on the nightstand and dials._

_“Fleet Command,” a man’s voice answers and he frowns; he expects Colonel Archer’s secretary._

_“Um, Colonel Archer, please,” Lee says, shifting on the bed, a weird feeling in his throat._

_“Please hold.” Lee taps on the nightstand, nervous energy in a click-click-click rhythm._

_“Colonel Gruber’s office,” a woman’s voice says after a moment._

_Lee blinks and swallows. “Hello. I’m trying to connect to Colonel Archer?”_

_There’s a pause and he hears a breath. “I’m sorry, sir, Colonel Archer was killed in an accident two days ago. A memorial service is being planned and details will be released via the Guardian newswire.”_

_“Oh my gods,” Lee gasps. “What kind of accident?”_

_Another pause. “His transport crashed, sir. Can I help you with anything else?” The woman’s tone is clipped._

_“No… thank you,” Lee says numbly, the wheels in his mind already working. He disconnects and sits frozen on the bed with the phone in his hand._

__Two days ago. Right after their meeting. Oh gods. __

_It only takes a moment for everything to snap into place. Lee turns his phone off and tosses it onto the bed._

_He’s in danger and he needs to run._  


~*~

_Queenstown, Picon_

A few weeks after telling Zak about the farms, they’ve moved into a fight club in southern Queenstown, the capital city of Picon, and a day’s drive from the prison. In the basement of the abandoned warehouse, Kara and Zak move quickly, shifting medical equipment out of boxes and stacking it neatly on a pallet in the corner of the room. The windows and doors in the rear of the building are wide open and the sun streams into the normally dark interior. Lee is flipping through a stack of papers while other fight club members carry more boxes through the front door and stack them on the table.

“Thirty boxes, Matt? Isn’t that a little overkill?” Kara chides, arranging a stacks of packaged syringes into a pile.

“I only have a partial list of the supply order, Kara. My contact told me they added onto the first order and so I had to guess. We’re not going to use them all. The more boxes, though, the better the chance the guards will be sloppy in inspecting them.”

Lee surveys their activities and frowns. “Zak, can you make a separate pallet for the liquids? Those boxes are where we’ll put the X-20. It’s about the same weight as water and no one should notice any weight differences when they inspect the boxes.” Zak nods and drags a pallet from the other side of the room.

Sitting at a desk, Lee scans through his email for another message from his contact at the prison. He’s got three men inside, non-military guys he met at a fight club in Picon’s other main city, Hedon. They’ve been funneling him information for the past few weeks, enabling them to make a plan to help the women.

Behind him, Lee hears a sharp intake of breath and sees Kara jump back from one of the boxes, her face ashen. He stands, pushing the chair out roughly behind him.

“What is it?” He moves over to her and puts his hand on her arm. She blinks at him and he peers into the box and swallows. “Rubber tubing,” he says and slams the lid shut. “Zak, get that out of here.” 

Zak goes pale and gives them wide eyes. He scoops up the box and carries towards the back door. Lee pulls Kara into a hug and watches Zak rush away from them, his face pained. He hates that his brother knows everything, but it was Kara’s choice to tell him what happened. He knows Zak can barely stand to hear about it.

“It’s almost over,” he says into her hair. 

She squeezes hard and steps back, taking a breath. Her face is tight. “I’ll be fine. It just has to end.” 

His eyes linger on her face. “It will. A few more days.” 

Kara turns away and picks up another box. He sees her body relax a bit as she opens it and pulls out paper dressing gowns. She turns and glares at Lee. “I’m fine. Stop staring at me,” she barks.

Lee purses his lips and sits back down at the computer. Kara’s been getting more and more anxious as the day of the operation approaches, but he understands. They have a dangerous plan to get the Fleet’s attention.

They’re planting a bomb at the farm on Picon.

~*~

_Triton Falls Military Prison for Women_

 _For what she thinks is an entire day or more, she waits, listening to the sounds of the building and the steady terrified pounding of her heart. Every six hours, someone has come into the room, always passing her by, but never stopping. She has kept her eyes closed, terrified to make even the smallest movement until she hears something different – now there are two sets of footsteps. The pair sound like they are far away from her and when she dares to crack open an eyes, she sees two people, one short man with a pinched face and a taller woman, blonde and wearing a Fleet uniform. She nearly gasps aloud at the sight of the blue uniform and squeezes her eyes closed._ No…no…this can’t be happening. _Her mind rejects the possibility that she is trapped and that her Fleet knows about it. It takes every measure of calm not to scream or beg or plead to be released, to get answers to questions that she can’t even fathom would need to be asked._

_The pair leaves, talking quietly to themselves in hushed tones, unaware that she is awake and tracking their movements. Seeing a Fleet officer confirms that there is no chance she will be rescued. No one will ever know, she realizes. Her family is dead and the only ones that will miss her won’t bother to check for another two weeks. She chokes down a sob and breathes. She has to stay calm._

_Sitting slightly upward, she looks around her bed, seeing machines and a chair and a small tray with syringes and a pair of scissors. She suspects that no one has expected one of the women to wake up and they have been careless. Her restraints are long enough that she thinks she might reach the tray. If it topples she will be discovered and she knows for certain that she won’t wake again._

_Slowly, she stretches her arm as far as it will go. She is short by several inches and she huffs out a breath from the exertion of straining her arm towards the tray. The binding slides down her arm and she strains and she feels something shift, some twist in the strap or something and it lengthens, releasing her hand forward but not free._

_She strains harder, the pain in her abdomen sharp as she uses her stomach muscles, every frakking muscle she can, to reach those scissors. When her fingers touch the edge of the tray she almost shouts. With a calming breath, she eases the tray towards her, body as still and deliberate as she can make it. Her arm is screaming in pain from the cutting edge of the restraint and it begins to go numb, but she’s almost there, her middle finger grazes the edge of the scissors and finally she can pull them slowly towards her. Her heart races wildly and she begins to shake._ Breathe…in…out…breathe. _This is her only chance._

_Her fingers finally seize the scissors and she falls back onto the bed, sweat trickling back into her hair and down her chest. She sobs again and closes her eyes to rest. She’s so exhausted she can barely move. Whatever they’re giving her almost keeps her asleep. Almost. Arching her back, she tilts her head up to see the IV tube dangling overhead, connected to her other arm. She strategizes a plan to free herself and begins to awkwardly cut her restraints._

_Twenty minutes later, one wrist restraint is cut and the others are loosened enough that she can slip them off. She pulls the IV tube and waits for a while until her head starts to clear. Sitting up with difficulty, she reaches out, fingers just grazing the rubber tubes that connect to her body. A shudder runs through her body and she forces her eyes closed, shutting out thoughts that will make her scream. After a moment, she opens them again and reaches for one of the smaller tubes. The movement of the tube sends pain into her abdomen and she winces, fingers trailing down to the round disc that covers her skin. She tries to lift it, feels sharp pain and releases it._

_With a breath and a prayer, she cuts the tubes and ties them off and slides her legs out of the restraints. She struggles to get off the bed, her heart pounding with fear and the rush of endorphins and adrenaline as she moves against the pain. Stumbling as she puts all her weight her legs, she reaches for the bed and breathes, warding off the spinning sensation in her head. Terrified that the tubes are alarmed, she moves as quickly as she can, dizziness at the edges of her senses._

_The pain in her belly is agonizing, but she walk, both hands cradling the attachments still connected to her stomach as her eyes look for something to cover herself. She finds a lab coat and pulls it on with effort, each adjustment of the silver disks sending shooting pains into her insides. She’s breathing hard now, every movement making her more and more tired. Finally reaching the door, she pulls it open and peaks out, the brightly lit corridor is empty and she steps through, her eyes adjusting to the light. The exit sign draws her attention and she opens the door and climbs up the stairs as quickly as she can._

_Kara gasps with relief when she pushes the final door open and staggers into the dim light of early dawn. The partial darkness gives her cover, despite the glaring lights that illuminate most of the prison. She slowly skirts along the wall towards a plain metal building and slides inside. One military transport vehicle is up on blocks and she climbs into the back, huddling between two boxes and pulling a tarp over herself. Closing her eyes, she says a silent prayer to the gods that this truck leaves before she is found missing._

_Later, she is awakened by the sound of laughter and the slamming of a truck door. Her heart starts to pound fast. She prays to the gods again, begging for their mercy and vowing to right what has happened to her. The truck roars to life and jolts out of the garage. The sun peeks through the cracks around the canvas covering and the truck begins to move. Ten minutes later, she feels it gaining speed and she begins to sob._

_She is free._

~*~

_Queenstown, Picon_

The motel room is sweltering, the humidity outside no match for the shitty air conditioner under the window. Kara doesn’t care, just wants to lie in bed, her legs wrapped around Matt, watching him sleep. They’ve been working around the clock and now it’s all finally done. In a few hours, they drive to Triton Falls to end the medical experiments. Or they all end up in prison. One way or another, they’re going to get the attention of the Twelve Worlds and expose it all. 

Kara absently traces the line of muscle on Matt's chest and he rolls towards her, one eye opening. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asks with a sleep-roughened voice. 

“I like the view,” she teases and kisses him lightly against the smile on his lips. “I’m getting in the shower. Wanna join me? Your last chance before all hell breaks loose,” she says as she slides off the bed. They’ve got an hour before they have to meet Zak and she’s going to make the best of it. He grabs her hand and pulls her towards him, but she breaks free, laughing as she moves away and closes the bathroom door. 

She looks in the mirror and slides her fingers along the scabs and cuts that run along her cheeks and nose. The right side of her face is unusually swollen, from that bitch of a leftie who clocked her good and hard last night. A blue and purple bruise spreads from her ear to the middle of her jaw. The punch left her ear ringing for most of the fight until she had to tap out. Almost two weeks of fighting and she is finally done. The mission is about to go down and she’s ready. 

Twisting the water on, she adjusts it and steps in, the lukewarm spray sluicing along her body. She washes her face and hair and smiles when she hears the door to the bathroom opening. A minute later, Matt steps in behind her, pulling her against him and taking the soap out of her hands. 

He lathers her back and his slick hands slide to her breasts, swirling his fingers around her nipples as she leans into him. Kara intertwines her fingers with his and moves his hands lower, touching herself along with him, feeling his erection sliding along her ass. A thrill of arousal runs through her body and her now soapy hand find his cock and strokes, shivering as he groans in her ear.

She turns and tilts her head up to kiss him, letting go of his erection to wrap her arms around his neck. They kiss for a long time, savoring the time they have together before everything begins. The last two weeks have alternated between bliss and rage, the more she learns about the Fleet from Matt, the more and more she knows that what they are doing is right. 

Matt’s hands drift down her curves and between her legs, and pleasure blocks out any kind of worry. Her moan echoes in the small shower as his fingers find her clit. The water cools and she twists the knobs to turn up the hot. The water cools anyway and she shivers against him.

“C’mon. Let’s get out,” he says against her cheek. 

She doesn’t want their delicious shower to end, but she complies anyway and they rinse quickly and half-dry themselves before she heads towards the bed. Matt follows more slowly, and she’s on the bed watching him as he approaches, rubbing a towel against his short dark hair. His eyes are smoldering and she gives him a lopsided grin. 

He stands in front of her, arms on her shoulders, thumb stroking her jaw, and she looks up at him before taking his half-hard cock in her hands. Her tongue flattens along the length, and swirls around the head before opening wide to take him in. He sighs and pushes towards her, his length easing into her mouth as his fingers twine in her hair. Her mouth wraps around him, a tight wet seal as she works him slowly at first, and then faster. Her eyes close and she finds a rhythm, waiting until his fingers tighten in her hair, pulling harder as he gets closer to orgasm. Soon, he’ll try to stop her, push her back, but she won’t let him; she wants to do this, do everything before they need to leave. 

When he tries to shift back, she digs her fingers into his ass, sucking harder, her hand working in tandem with her mouth, saliva streaming down her chin and between her breasts until his fingers are scrabbling along her neck and face. He groans and says her name, his fingers now digging into her shoulders as a guttural moan rattles his body. He comes, salty and slick into her mouth and she swallows, breathing him in and marking this moment in her mind. 

Kara releases him and wipes her face with her arm, lying back on the sheets to rest. He lies down beside her and pulls her close, kissing her neck lightly. 

“I’m going to miss this,” he says, sliding his hands along her face and shoulders and down to her stomach. 

She feels it too, the impending separation, and she’s not ready for things to change. She laces her fingers through his and squeezes. They’ve been inseparable for the last few weeks, since that night at the garage when he told her everything. Like her, he’s been through hell, cutting off ties from his family and friends because the Fleet that wants him dead. They’ve come to depend on each other, and she’s closer to him than anyone she’s ever known.

“It’s only for three weeks,” Kara says lightly. Once the bomb goes off, the team will separate, each going to a location unknown to the others. Anything can happen in those three weeks, but Kara plans to meet Matt and Zak on Leonis, just like they planned.

She turns to face him. “I’ll be there and so will you. I feel it. Stuff will go down, shit will be bad for a while, and then we’ll meet.” He frowns, the wrinkle between his brow sharpening. But she kisses him, sealing the plan before he can object, before can tell her again that he’s worried. 

Matt kisses her back hard, pulling her tightly into an embrace and she feels emotion surging into her throat. 

She’s going to miss him, too.

~*~

Zak drives the last two hundred clicks towards the prison, the three of them crammed into the cab of a box truck. Kara has her head tipped onto Matt’s shoulder, feeling sleepy after a late night stop for burgers and fries. It’s been a surreal experience, chatting with Lee and Zak over food in the middle of the night, acting like they’re going on a hike instead of preparing to set off a bomb at a prison.

Kara shifts on the bench seat, sliding her hand over Matt’s leg and twining her fingers through his. He squeezes and kisses her head. In this time, she feels suspended, sitting between two men who’ve turned out to be incredibly kind to her, more than she ever thought she’d find through fight club. Or ever. She’s happy it hadn’t taken Zak long to adjust to her feelings for Matt. He’s a good guy and Matt deserves to have family around. 

Zak adjusts the radio and Kara’s eyes open at the sharp pop of static through the speakers. 

“Shit Zak, take it easy,” she scolds, thwapping him on the thigh. 

“Relax,” he says, and turns down the volume before finding a new station. 

They drive for a while and when they see the first sign for Triton Falls, Kara’s heart starts to beat faster. It’s all beginning now and for the first time since they started to plan, she feels fear in her gut. 

“What if something goes wrong?” Zak asks, as if he can read her mind. Kara shifts uncomfortably and squeezes Matt’s hand. She can’t answer because she wonders the same thing.

“We’ve been over this, Zak. It’s a delivery. That’s it. You drive in, unload, drive out. Nothing will happen right away. Just make sure you unload them near the door, okay. The women are at the other end of the building. The blast will do enough damage that they’ll have to evacuate the women, but it won’t hurt them. That’s why we’re doing it.” Matt’s tone is sharp and strident and Kara feels his leg bouncing against the seat.

“I know, I know. You drilled this into my head. I won’t frak it up, okay?” Zak snaps, tightening his hands on the steering wheel.

She feels Matt tense beside her. “Ooookay, relax guys,” she quips. “Everyone just do what they’re supposed to do and it’ll be fine. Zak you know what to do. Matt and Santos took care of packing everything. I’ll set the timer and it’s good to go.”

Matt’s not done and keeps talking, “Clare told me that the fire alarm will go off ten minutes before the blast. The building should be empty. It’s a holiday, so fire response will be slow. Let’s just relax, okay?” 

Kara’s eyes go wide at Matt’s harsh, not-at-all-relaxed tone, and she rolls her eyes at Zak, who rolls his eyes right back, and they burst into laughter. In moments, Matt is laughing, too.

~*~

Thirty minutes later, dawn breaks around them and Lee shifts on the seat, nervous energy making him sweat in the small cab. He rolls down the window as Zak pulls onto a long dirt lane in the farmlands just south of Triton Falls. They approach an abandoned house with its faded yellow paint and overgrown weeds and Zak drives the truck around the back. Lee slides out first, stretching after the long trip, his heart ticking a little faster now. He surveys the area, including the three cars that have been left for their getaway. Just seeing the cars makes him slwallow convulsively. He doesn’t want to leave Kara, not for one moment, let alone three weeks.

Lee takes a short walk to a dilapidated shed, trying to clear his mind of the anxiety racing through it. Behind him, he hears Kara approaching and he turns towards her, trying but mostly failing to smile. Instead, he pulls her tightly against him, breathing in her scent of sweat and french fries and the faintest smell of shampoo from their shower earlier that morning. She tilts her head back, her face serious and he kisses her forehead and her cheeks and then her lips, lightly at first and then slanting across her mouth as she opens to him. These are the last moments they’ll have before everything changes. 

His pulse races as they kiss, his fingers tracing her body, memorizing every curve and valley so he can think of it when they are apart. He breaks the kiss and holds her face in his hands. “I love you, Kara,” he says, not caring if it freaks her out or not. 

She blinks and a smile curves on her lips. “I love you, too, Lee Adama.” His breath catches in his throat and he crushes her to him, emotion overwhelming him at the sound of his name. He doesn’t know how he’s lived this long without her. 

They hold on to each other until Zak calls out to them. With one last hard kiss, he lets her go and they walk together back towards the truck.

~*~

Lee and Kara drive in one car towards the surveillance house that Lee helped to repair more than a year ago. Zak is back at the abandoned house waiting for word from Lee before he drives through the town to make the delivery. The overgrown weeds and dead leaves around the small building tell him that his contact’s information is good. No one has visited in at least a month and no one is expected for another two. It’s a risk to use the house, but it’s also their best chance to see the action and make sure that their activities are not recorded.

Pulling the car behind the house, Lee steps out and walks to the door and crosses his fingers in the hope that his old entry codes work. He sighs with relief when the door snicks open. Expecting Kara behind him, he glances back and then over at the car and frowns. 

A moment later, he knocks on her window and peers in at her. She shakes her head without looking at him and he opens the door. When she climbs out, her face is ashen and she's staring through the trees. He looks around; the prison can be seen through the trees, the medical building clearly visible in the bright sunlight.

Lee wraps his hand around her bicep. “You okay?”

She nods and moves past him towards the house. His eyes trail after her, stomach dropping as he watches her go through the door. He turns back to look at the prison again. Soon it will be over.

He follows her inside and shows her the back room with the monitors. They’re all working in the same way, the grainy footage never repaired. He never did hear what happened to Halberstam, and he’s not sure he wants to know. 

Kara moves quietly, her body unusually calm as she sits in front of the screens. Watching her, he sees her breathing, imagines she’s counting in her head the way she does when she’s upset and thinks for a moment about everything she’s given up – flying and a career – and now this, planting bombs because there are no other options. 

“You sure you want to do this? I can handle it if you don’t want to.” 

Her eyes flash at him. “No frakking way, Matt. I want to see this go down. I want to make sure those boxes get delivered. No. I’m staying.” She turns back to the screens. 

Lee pulls another chair from the outer room and sits next to her. He calls Zak on the portable radio and gives the signal.

~*~

Kara drives them away from the prison, her face as composed as she can keep it after everything that’s happened. She keeps to the speed limit, eyes peeled for anything that doesn’t seem right. Matt is slumped down in the seat next to her, his face a mask of shock and his body trembling so hard that she can see it from the driver's seat. In the distance, they hear sirens and as they crest a hill, she can see thick black smoke rising behind them in her rear-view mirror. She swallows hard, but tears flow down her face anyway as she drives.

Once they reach the edge of town, she punches the gas, their bodies jerking against the gravity and she flies down the hilly road towards the abandoned house. The windows are wide open and her ponytail whips into her face and tears stream back into her ears. She wants to scream with rage, or crash their car, or somehow just die in this exact moment so she doesn’t have to face what it will be like for them. For Matt.

The car careens onto the dirt road, her heart pounding hard and they come to a hard stop behind the house. She kills the engine and slumps over the steering wheel. Zak is dead. 

She’s sobbing now, unable to stop when she hears Matt’s door open and slam closed. She whips her head towards the sound and sees him walking fast through the weeds, his entire body coiled and ready to snap. She can’t comfort him now, has no idea what to say or do for him. She just cries because that’s all she can do. 

A long time later, she’s dizzy and sick and realizes with sudden clarity that they need to leave. They were supposed to separate and drive off – just in case they were traced to the bombing. Now with Zak gone, she has no idea what they will do. Kara wipes her face on her sleeves and leaves the car, finding Matt’s path through the weeds and following it.

She sees him in the distance, sitting on the top of a wide flat hill, staring out over the valley. His back straightens as he hears her approach and she swallows. He hasn’t said anything since he screamed Zak’s name in the surveillance house. 

Kara sits near him, glancing at his tear-ravaged face out of the corner of her eye. They sit silently for a while before he talks.

“What happened, Kara?” his voice is low and raw. “I’ve been over it and over it in my head. It shouldn’t have gone off when it did. Zak should have been out of there in time. Oh gods… What went wrong?” He dips his head against his knees and his body shakes.

She doesn’t answer because she doesn’t know. Everything was going according to plan. Zak had a happy smile on his face as he made small talk with the guard while he unloaded the truck. There was nothing in his face to give him away, but when he tried to leave the guard detained him. 

“Something gave him away, Kara. Something or somebody. I don’t know. It’s like they were waiting for him.” Kara jumps as Matt hits the ground with his fist over and over again and his voice is loud in the quietness of the morning. “I should have never let him drive that truck. What the frak was wrong with me? I should have never told him anything. Motherfrakker!” 

He sobs then, anger dissolving into tears and he turns his face towards her, his mouth pulled back in grief. “Why? Why does it have to touch everything? You, me, Zak? Those women… I can’t take this anymore, Kara. I frakking can’t.” He jumps to his feet and starts to pace, anger again overtaking him, while Kara feels helpless to do or say anything.

“I’m done, Kara. I’m frakking done. Everything is gone. How in the frak could I let this happen? They did this to me. They are responsible.” He jabs a finger towards some imaginary foe, his eyes staring at her wildly and she feels her heart pounding erratically.

She stands and speaks evenly, acutely aware of the time and their circumstances. “Something went wrong. I don’t know what, but we have to get out of here. They’re probably already fanning out to search. They’ll come here and we’ll be screwed, Matt. We have to go.”

His eyes flash at her. “I don’t frakking care, okay? I don’t give a shit. Let them come, Kara. They can kill me, okay? I’m frakking done!” He turns away from her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Lee!” she shouts, and he whips around. “I don’t care what you want right now.” Kara’s mind snaps back to her training. “We did what we set out to do. Things went wrong and Zak is gone. We can’t fix that now. But we have to go.” Kara enunciates her final words sharply and he gapes at her, his face slightly confused. “Now…” She grabs him by the arm and yanks him forward. She expects a fight and she’s shocked when he comes without one. 

They make it back to the dilapidated house and she opens the door to the small green car, feeling around for the keys under the seat. She fishes them out and starts the engine. It rumbles to life and she steps out of the way and turns around to face him. 

“You have to get moving. Do you remember your plan? Do you have your tickets or ID or whatever you needed?” She looks back into the car and sees his yellow bag on the seat. “Is that it?” She gestures over her shoulder and he nods numbly.

“You have to get in this car and drive, Matt. Stay under the speed limit, get off Picon. You got that?” He’s staring at her now, his face beginning to show some life. “Matt? You hearing me?” Her tone is sharp and loud and he blinks. 

“Yeah, Kara, I hear you. I have to go.” Like a wooden doll, he moves towards the door and stops before he gets in. He dips his head for a long moment and then speaks.

“I’m sorry, Kara.” He slides into the car and pulls the door closed. She watches him sit with his hands on the steering wheel and she knocks on the window. He rolls it down and she leans against the door.

“We’ll get through this…you and me. We’ll meet up in three weeks, all right? Leonis Spaceport, right?” She watches his face, suddenly afraid that he’s not going to come, that this has messed him up so much that everything they’d planned is now gone. Her eyes smart with tears and she watches his jaw twitch, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. 

“I’ll try, Kara.” He doesn’t look at her, just slams the car into gear and drives away, a cloud of dust trailing out behind him.

 

****

~*~

EPILOGUE

_Hedon, Leonis_  
Two weeks after the bombing

Lee blinks hard, clearing away the sweat beaded on his lashes. A man’s face looms over him. “You okay, buddy?”

“I didn’t tap out,” Lee grates, glancing around the room, seeing the faces of people peering down at him.

“You blacked out, man. Fight’s over.” The man’s face is bloody and swollen, and Lee knows he got in a couple of good shots. Not enough, though. He’s been fighting for two weeks straight and his body just can’t do it anymore.

Lee groans and tries to sit up, but his body shakes with the effort and his vision swims. Strong arms pull him to his feet and hold on until he steadies. He puts out a wavering hand to his opponent. “Good fight.”

The older man clasps his hand roughly and releases. “You, too.”

Lee finds the nearest wall and slumps against it, rubbing his hands across his face to clear the blood trickling down from his brow. He sees through the slits of his eyes that another fight is beginning. He lingers for a while, breathing and finding the energy to move, before he begins to collect his things. Wincing, he slides his t-shirt over his head and searches for his boots; the throbbing in his ribs worries him. This time, he thinks, as he takes a painful breath, he might be done, ready enough to return to the living – to return to her

For two weeks and a day, he’s been traveling from club to club fighting until he can’t stand up and crashing on someone's floor or a stinking sofa somewhere. He’s doing everything he can to keep himself numb – for Zak and Kara and the failure to save or rescue any of the women at the farm. The news reports say nothing of the women. His contacts are silent, and he’s on the outside again. Helpless.

His chest hurts too much to cry anymore, but his eyes sting from wanting it. He finds a beer and pulls down a long drought of the warm brew, swallowing hard and choking as he breathes.

A tall brunette with bangs and a military-cut jacket walks up to him, smiling appreciatively. “Nice fight,” she says, glancing pointedly at the bloody gash on his brow. “You need somebody to take care of those cuts?”

He blinks at her, takes in her hooded eyes and openly wanting expression and looks away with a half-smile. “No, thanks.” He pushes his feet into his boots and waits for her to leave.

The woman leans closer, her breasts grazing his arm. “I’m a nurse. I could fix you up.” 

Her lilting tone grates on him and he puts his foot against a chair to tie the laces. “I’m fine.”

She lets out a petulant breath and he snaps his eyes to hers. “I’m with someone. No thanks.” His tone is harsh now, the pain in his ribs and his general irritability makes him want to shove her. 

“Who? I don’t see anyone.” She counters, making an exaggerated survey of the room. The reminder of Kara’s absence stings him and he yanks the ties on his boots into knots and grabs his jacket to leave. 

Her hand on his arm is the last straw and he shakes her off violently, then leans close to her widening eyes. “I said no. Now frak off.” 

She steps back and he brushes past her, his fists coiled despite his exhaustion. 

By the time he reaches his car, he knows he’s done. His body and his mind are tired and weak and no amount of fighting is going to help anymore. There’s only one person who has ever understood and in five days he will see her.

For the first time since Zak’s death, he feels some hope.

~*~

Lee shifts his shoulder in the chair, moving slightly while Mike, the tattoo artist, dips his gun into the black ink. The buzzing of the small machine starts again and he feels the scratch-ripping of the needle as it is dragged across his skin. After all of the cuts and bruises and broken bones, he shouldn’t even feel it, but he does. All of his attention is focused on the sharp sensation of the vibrating needle as it punctures a solid black line around his wrist.

“What’s your partner’s design? Same thing?” The artist asks casually, his other hand gripping Lee’s forearm to make sure he doesn’t move.

“Don’t know. She’s going to surprise me.” He exhales slowly and watches the fan spin above his head.

“I have to say this is a treat for me. Usually I get idiotic couples coming in here with crazy demands for giant arm tattoos with feathers and symbolic shit. You’re going traditional. It’s cool. Haven’t done one of these in a long time.”

Mike’s a chatty guy and it distracts Lee from the pain. He actually has no idea that Kara will get a tattoo at all. It was a joke between them when they were planning their getaway trip. 

_“Matt, give me your arm.” Kara pulls his hand into her lap and grabs a marker off the desk. She draws a thick black line around his left wrist. “This is a marriage tattoo. Picon style. Real thing hurts like a motherfrakker, I bet.”_

_She laughs when she’s done and he grabs the marker out of her hand. “My turn.” More slowly, he slides the marker along her wrist and around several times to make sure the ink is even._

_They slide their wrists together and she rolls her eyes at him before bursting out laughing. “Nice! We’re a matching set now. Let’s go frak with Zak and tell him we got married.” She laughs again and pulls him out of the room and down the steps towards his brother._

Lee smiles now at the memory of how Zak had been so shocked, his mouth hanging open at the sight of the thick black bands. Lee had nearly choked himself trying not to laugh, but it had been Kara who spilled the beans and thwacked Zak on the head for being so gullible. 

Later that night in bed with Kara, they’d laughed about it again, agreeing instead to buy fake wedding rings to use for their cover story. Now that Zak’s gone, it seems right to do this instead, to weave him into their relationship and make it a permanent reminder of how close the three of them had become. He has no idea how Kara will react, but he wants it and her, and he’ll do whatever he can to convince her to make the bands real. He needs her in his life permanently.

~*~

_Luminere Spaceport, Leonis_  
Three weeks after the bombing

Kara slaps the inside of her wrist, the only way she knows how to stop the itching without gouging the new ink with her fingernails. The skin is cracked and peeling, but the redness has faded and the lines along the edges are crisp against her pale skin. 

The food she’s ordered has gotten cold and she pushes it aside to continue her vigilant scan of the wide open lobby of the spaceport for Matt. She checks the time on the digital display in the center of the lobby. The Scylla, a passenger ship carrying families on a tour of the four suns of Helios, starts boarding in twenty minutes, and they are supposed to be on it.

In the two hours she’s been waiting, she’s run through every possible scenario of what might have happened to him. She stubbornly refuses to think anything has gone wrong. Luminere traffic is notorious for gridlock and she has to believe he’ll be here. Over and over again while she waits, she traces the line of her new tattoo with her thumb, the slight roughness of the healing flesh making her feel grounded. _He has to come._

With the first boarding announcement, Kara’s heart starts to race. If he’s not here, she doesn’t know what to do. Too unsettled to sit, she slings her bag over a shoulder and tosses her garbage into a trashcan. She scans the crowded station again, but sees no sign of him. 

As the boarding continues, she lingers near the gate, allowing families with children and too much luggage to pass and go down the corridor towards the waiting ship. Her fingers worry the edge of the ticket in her pocket. _Where is he?_

The gate attendant emerges from the long hallway and speaks into a mic. “Now boarding, Flight L332, all passengers please come forward. The gate will be closing in ten minutes.”

The attendant clears his throat and looks at Kara. “Ma’am…are you boarding Flight L332?” 

Turning in his direction, she remembers to smile. “I’m waiting for my… husband. He’s supposed to be here, but he’s late.” She turns away and scans again, a creeping realization coming into her mind. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ll have to close the doors in ten minutes.” The man turns away and greets other passengers who arrive breathlessly at the gate. Kara chews on her lip and keeps watch until the final second. _Frak._

By the time she gets to their cabin, she’s furious and throws her bag against the wall behind the bed.

“Motherfrakker!” she yells, pacing the room. “How could he frakking do this to me?” 

A voice in the back of her mind tells her she should be worried, that maybe something happened to him, but she pushes it away. She digs her nails into her palms as she paces, mind racing about all of the things she’s going to do to him if he ever surfaces again. She ignores the part of her that is about to break and holds onto the anger for as long as she can.

When she ship rumbles around her, she stops, swallowing hard and looking at the door. Disbelief floods through her. _It’s not supposed to go this way. Just one break, Lords, just one frakking break._

~*~

Lee sits in an empty cabin on the lower levels of the Scylla, his hands tapping an anxious rhythm on the butt of the sidearm he has cradled in his lap. He watches the door, listening to the footsteps of passengers as they filter by. For long hours no one has paused and the only sound he's heard is the wireless broadcasting softly from across the room. The commentators voices drone in and out of his awareness as he tries to formulate a plan to get word to Kara that is aboard and safe. Any move he makes, however, could put her at risk, so he opts for silence.

Shifting in his seat, he unloads the clip, checks it and loads it again. He doesn’t plan on being taken alive if the Fleet comes for him. They’ve blasted his name all over the wireless and he’s sure they are only moments away. He swallows against a dry throat and tries to breathe through his panic.

In the corner of the cabin is the source of his anxiety. All morning, the Caprican Joint Wireless Service has broadcast a special report on the decommissioning of his father’s ship. He’s been hiding on the Scylla since he glimpsed the footage a few hours prior.

The news report repeats through the wireless’s tinny speakers, “Commander William Adama will make remarks this afternoon from the deck of the battlestar Galactica as the aging ship takes its final voyage around Caprica. It is unknown if the Commander will address his son’s participation in the deadly bombing at the Triton Falls prison just three weeks ago. The Fleet and the Adar administration have cleared Commander Adama of any wrongdoing, but he is expected to retire shortly after the ceremony. Questions remain, of course, about how his son, Zachary Adama, a former Fleet member himself, came to be involved in the bombing. This will be Commander Adama’s first public appearance since his son’s funeral.” 

He’s heard this report three times now and each time his eyes are glued to his father’s face, the proud man that had to bury a son. And it is all Lee’s fault. He chokes back the bile in his throat, a hot and bitter residue coating his tongue. Angrily wiping tears, he stands, pacing the room, unable to turn off the recounting of the history of his father’s career, the battles he fought and won for the Colonies. All the while, he hears the undertone of betrayal and his mind spins. It’s all frakking wrong. The guilt he feels for Zak’s death is compounded now: his father’s career has been tainted by his actions. 

Another commentator speaks, “The Commander’s wife can be seen here, leaving Zachary Adama’s funeral. Reports indicate that Carolanne Adama and the Commander divorced nearly a decade ago. The Commander’s son, Leland Adama, a Captain in the Colonial Fleet, did not attend the services and his whereabouts are unknown.” 

Lee grimaces as his own face appears on the screen, followed by a happy family photo of the four of them and then the funeral footage with his mom and dad at their worst. In his gut he knows the Fleet has engineered this view – that somehow they’ve found a way to plaster his photo on the wireless without directly accusing him of anything. They can’t know he’s responsible for the bombing, but they want him nonetheless. 

When the wireless suddenly cuts out, Lee feels the sickening shift of the FTL drive as it shunts them through space and time. His stomach flips and then settles as an announcement rings across the comm.

“We’ve successfully jumped out of Picon orbit, ladies and gentlemen, and have arrived at our first destination, the Argos Cluster. Viewing platforms for this astonishing natural wonder can be found at the aft decks on levels three and four. Our next jump in twelve hours. Enjoy your stay.”

Lee’s chest relaxes and he breathes freely. They’ve made it.

~*~

The corridors of the Scylla are filled with passengers heading upwards to see the Argos Cluster. Lee follows them, climbing the narrow staircase, watching parents nudge their young children towards the observation decks. Since he stepped out of his hiding place, his heart has been racing and he can’t stop smiling. In minutes, he’ll be with Kara again.

Lee’s footsteps echo in the corridor as he passes door after door looking for their cabin. A tickle of worry still remains, that somehow she hasn’t boarded, but he pushes those thoughts aside. He’s done everything he can to make sure she is safe and he can’t wait another second to see her.

His fingers are damp with sweat as he pulls the entry key out of his pocket and slides it through the electronic reader next to the hatch. He hears the release of the door and pushes it slowly open. 

“Kara?” At first he hears nothing and then a rustling.

“Matt?!” she exclaims and the hatch flies open and out of his hands. “Oh my gods, where have you been?” She tackles him, wrapping her arms around his neck and propelling them halfway into the hall. 

He laughs and grips her in a crushing hug, his face buried into her hair, body nearly going slack with relief. He half-carries her back into the cabin and she sticks out an arm to close the hatch. She loosens her grip, grins at him, her eyes bright. He grins back, wide and joyful, and kisses her. Her mouth opens to his and he pours all of his longing and missing her into their kiss. He’s overwhelmed by the sensation of it, the wetness of her mouth, the taste that he’s missed; it’s powerful and magnificent and he thinks that he doesn’t ever have to breathe again. 

When they finally part, breathless and excited, Kara grips his shoulders, her face becoming more serious. “Where in the frak have you been? Why weren’t you at the gate?” 

He sees the confusion and takes a deep breath. “Have you seen the wireless, Kara?” 

Her eyes go wide and she glances at the unit in the corner. “No. Why?”

“I was on it. My face, Kara. The Caprican wireless service blasted my face all over creation.” His tone sharpens, continued outrage setting into his features.

“What are you talking about?” She walks across the cabin and switches on the service. The screen is blank. 

“There’s no reception now…not out here. Once we get to Aerilon orbit, maybe, but not here.” Lee drops his bag and moves to the bed, sitting heavily.

He stares at the floor then meets Kara’s question eyes. “They’ve been showing footage of the decommissioning of the Galactica. Can you believe it? And of course they were talking about the bombing and Zak and the funeral. Motherfrakkers! I’ve been hiding out below decks in case they came, Kara. I didn’t want them to take you, too.”

“What are you talking about?” He sees panic and worry on her face as she sits and shifts to face him on the bed.

“They showed my whole family, kind of a story of William Adama’s life. They showed my cadet photo with my name and said my whereabouts were unknown. It was unbelievable, Kara. First Zak, now this!”

“Oh my gods, Matt. Did they implicate you?” 

“No, and they said Dad was cleared of any wrongdoing, but still…” Lee stands, energy and worry pulsing in his body again. “I don’t want my face out there. All of the fight club people, they know me as Matt. But not anymore. It’s all over. Someone’s going to talk and then I’m screwed.” 

Kara’s watching him intently and then she stands, putting her hand on his chest. “It was over already, Matt. After Zak, you know? I’m done, so are you. The fights are over. We have to do something else.”

He stares at her, half-comprehending her words in a haze of anger and regret and worry. 

“Look. This is where we are now.” She gestures around the small cabin. “We’ve been through some crazy, crazy shit. We watched Zak die. Can’t change it. We tried to save the women. Didn’t work. Gotta put it behind us now. I’m Kara and you’re Lee—not Matt, but Lee, and we have to start over. If they catch up to us, then I guess we’ll have to deal, but for now, this is all that matters.”

He doesn’t know what to say, but he knows she’s right. He pulls her into his arms and holds on. “Gods, I missed you.” 

She chuckles against his neck. “I missed you, too.”

~*~

An hour later, Lee pulls a thin blanket over their naked bodies and she settles in next to him, one leg sliding over his hips. Lee traces his finger along the edge of Kara’s marriage tattoo. “How did you know I would get one, too?” he asks, still amazed that she wears the thick black band around her wrist.

He feels her shrug against his chest. “Didn’t. Just wanted it.” 

“Me, too,” he says, smiling and trailing a finger down her cheek to her chin. She tilts her head up and captures his lip between her teeth. 

He growls a little and pulls her head towards him, teeth grazing the side of her mouth and his tongue sliding along the fullness of her lower lip. Her hand touches his face, cupping his jaw as she kisses him, breath hot against his skin and her leg sliding seductively along his body. His fingers leave her hair and grip her thigh, pulling it against his growing erection and his lips find her neck. Her breath catches as his fingers slide down the back of her thigh, finding her folds still wet from their earlier lovemaking.

His fingers dance slowly over her clit and dip inside, eliciting a sigh and her hand on his cock. Her fingers are like magic as she wraps around him, moving slowly, shifting her body and kissing a line down his chest to lick along his shaft. He groans and twines his fingers into her hair as she takes him into her mouth. 

Her tongue does delicious things, and her mouth puckers around him, sucking and releasing, making small noises in the back of her throat. His hands move with her until he feels the pleasure starting to spiral and crest. He pulls at her head, and tucks his hips; after all this time apart he wants to look at her now. 

Kara wipes her mouth and straddles him, planting one hand on his chest while she guides him inside her. He watches her face, eyes hooded and mouth red and wet as she sinks down on him. She’s beautiful as she rides him, slowly and deliberately, taking her time now after their earlier rush. He’s missed every bit of her body, every expression when she moans or gasps as she moves. 

Her body writhes on top of him, nipples erect as he reaches for them, tweaking and filling his hands with her flesh. The gold in her eyes brightens under pleasure-laden lids, closing as she begins to move faster, a flush of arousal along her neck and chest. 

Strong fingers dig into his chest as she bends over him, hair tickling his face as she grinds their hips together. With every thrust is a moan and her mouth is open, gasping for breath as she fraks him. His hands go into her hair, onto her shoulders, over her breasts, every single place he can touch. He memorizes her with his fingers, every curve and valley and peak are his for the cataloging. 

Kara rides him until he feels her thighs trembling and he flips them, breaking contact to settle her onto the bed. She gives a breathless groan, and tilts her knees open, pulling him down for a kiss. He tastes the sweat beaded on her lips as she devours him with her mouth and teeth and he slides into her slick wetness. 

Bucking her hips to meet him, both hands grip his ass to force him faster. He wants to draw it out, give her pleasure again and again, but she feels so hot and wet and perfect that he can barely hold on. The friction between them is so utterly delicious that his body rejects his mind’s control and he buries his face into her neck, driving into her brutally. She’s shouting moans into his ear, spurring him on with her heels in his ass and he can’t breathe for the pleasure coiling inside him. 

He feels and hears Kara’s orgasm as it whips through her, shuddering along her body while her hands scrabble wildly on his back. “Ooooh gods, oh gods, ohhh…” dissolving into senseless sounds as she gasps deeply in his ear and her hips lock and shudder beneath him. “Oh my gods, oh gods, please,” she chants, her mouth seeking his, her fingertips bruising his shoulders. 

He shifts his hips and pushes her legs open wide, sliding every bit of himself into her. His breath comes in pants as he drives them together, skin meeting skin, bone against bone as his arousal twists into a tight peak, pulling him into the crest of a white hot orgasm. His mouth locks onto hers and a deep groan vibrates through his chest. 

Her fingernails rip tracks into his back, the last moments of her keening pleasure squeezing his orgasm to a sensation so intense that he cannot breathe. “Kara,” he chokes, needing her name on his lips as he tips over the edge into bliss, his face buried into her hair. “Oh, gods,” he grates, pulsing into her with a deep thrust. Still wound inside his pleasure, he mouths her throat and her ear and his teeth graze her jaw, holding onto the moment as long as he can. 

Finally, he relaxes and falls away from her, pulling her tightly against him, feeling her voice rumble along his chest. “That was…frak. My gods!” Her voice is raw and throaty and he can only snort a laugh and groan in agreement because he can barely breathe. Sweat coats both of them and they slide together in satiated pleasure, fingers interlocking on his chest until they are nearly asleep. 

“I love you, Kara,” he says, squeezing her fingers. 

“Love you, too, Lee,” she answers sleepily, and his name feels right and perfect on her lips. 

For now, they are safe.


End file.
